Dream House
by Lynnlee22
Summary: Phick
1. Chapter 1

He pressed the pillow tight across his face as he drew in a frustrated breath. The flashing light of the neon sign blinked relentlessly against the mirror making it nearly impossible to sleep – not that he'd been anywhere near sleep in days anyway. Still, the cheap sign, the thin dusty pillows, the cheap, plain furniture – it all just served as another reminder of where he was or rather, where he wasn't.

This was a far cry from the life he'd had just a few weeks ago. It was a lifetime away from the life he'd dreamed of, from the life he'd planned, from the life he deserved. He had it all – the job, the family, the house. It was all his and now it was all gone.

Cameron Brooks had never made anyone proud. His mother had always been annoyed by him. He was an unpleasant addition to their family, the last child in an already crowded family of six other children. His father, already enamored by his two older brothers, barely tolerated him and, by the time Cameron was old enough to want to follow in his footsteps, those footsteps had drastically slowed. As a grown man, he'd vowed to be the pride of his own family, to make his wife and own son proud of him. And he had. At least for a while.

He graduated the top of his class and immediately secured a prestigious position at a top accounting firm. His work ethic and skills moved him up through the ranks quickly and it wasn't long before his salary began to reflect the prestige associated with the position. Gwen wasn't in it for the money though. The two met in college at a mixer long before either of them had any idea of his future earning potential. They'd married just after graduation and Maxton had been born the month before his first big promotion. They'd joked it was their 'banner year'. 'The best year of their life' only it only got better. Every year with his family only got better. They built a beautiful home, a home he had never even allowed himself to dream of. Hours were spent pouring over plans with a contractor. He'd beamed as he'd watched the joy on Gwen's face. Each tiny detail she wanted was carved into the design, the finished project truly reflecting their dream house.

The thin mattress groaned as he sat up and peered out the window. You could barely see that side of town from here. It was a world away, but he could see it in his mind ever time he closed his eyes. He could see the doorway that led into the beautiful sprawling hallway. The artwork Gwen had picked out was hanging on all the walls with Maxton's favorite toys shoved into a wicker basket under the bench. It haunted him – these images. He couldn't help but wonder what had become of this beautiful house, this house he'd planned to grow old in, this house he'd designed with the woman he loved, this house his child had grown up in.

He had to know. He stood and reached from his coat, pulling it tight around him and fastening the buttons. The voice in his head told him to stop, but he'd been tuning that voice out for a long time now.

* * *

Phyllis ran the boxcutter down the clear packing tape. She jumped slightly at the sound of her cell phone, her lips curving into a sly smile as she saw the name flash across the screen. "Hey you," she whispered, "I thought you were on your way home hours ago."

Nick closed his eyes as he leaned back in his office chair. He could create such a clear picture of her in his mind, the coy grin on her face, the tilt of her hip and the way she'd turn her head just so. It would be so easy to close the laptop in front of him, forget everyone and everything and just go home to her, but he couldn't … not tonight. "I know," he sighed, "You have no idea how much I wish I could be, but something's come up. One of the deals we've been negotiating for weeks, one of the really big ones, is on the verge of falling apart and the guy only wants to deal with me. If it wasn't such a huge player, I'd blow it off, but this guy is …"

She could hear the frustration in his voice. It was nice to feel wanted, to know that someone actually regarded her as a priority and felt badly when they weren't able to follow through on their word. "It's alright." He deserved the leniency. For the past several days, he'd been leaving work and coming home to another full time job. They'd unpacked box after box that they both insisted must be multiplying before finally giving up and turning in for the night under the guise of being exhausted and needing sleep. Which of course, they never got. It didn't matter though. They existed on exhilaration, happiness, and total satisfaction.

"I hate it though. I do. I told you I'd be home and that we'd get those last few boxes finished up so that maybe one night soon we could do other things instead of unpacking." He found himself smiling too. The simple of act of talking to her relaxed him. For the past few hours, he'd been arguing and negotiating and his neck and shoulders were killing him, but in a few simple minutes the stress had seemingly melted away. She had that effect on him. She always had.

"You're the big Kahuna," she giggled. "You've got to handle things. If you don't do it, it doesn't get done. I understand."

"I guess you do." He lowered his voice seductively. "You're the …" He paused … "What's the female version of that … Kahunaess?"

She laughed as she sat down on the edge of the bed. "I don't, but I'll check on that and maybe I'll see if I can figure out what the appropriate attire is for such a position. Perhaps I'll surprise you with it later." She didn't need to see his face to imagine his reaction in exceptional detail. The idea made her laugh out loud.

He cleared his throat as he adjusted the chair. "Well, now that's not fair. How am I supposed to concentrate on business with an image like that in my head?"

"Maybe that'll speed up the negotiations?" she purred.

"I can promise you that." He let a slow breath leave his lips as he imagined her again, in his house, waiting for him. "I'll be home as soon as I can, okay?"

"I know you will. I'll be here." She ended the call with a smile on her face and walked over to the window. The lights of car flashed bright into the window as she pulled the curtains closed. It wasn't unusual for cars to slow on this road. This house was striking and often made drivers pause.

This driver though, the one that pulled off to the side of the road and stopped, the one who reached into the back seat and pulled the black duffel bag into the passenger seat beside him, he had no plans of passing by.


	2. Chapter 2

He grimaced as the window's automatic motor groaned and slowly came to life. This was yet another indication of how his life had changed. Gone were the days of the luxury sedan with heated leather seats. The used car that only sometimes started on the cold Wisconsin mornings was the best he could do under the circumstances. He'd truly lost everything – his family, his home, and every luxury that he'd come to appreciate. There was nothing to be gained from this practice, this sort of masochistic way of dreaming of better days, but it still didn't keep him away.

The air was cold as it rushed into the now open window, but he didn't mind. It gave him a clear view of the house he loved so much. There was a new car in the driveway, one he hadn't seen there before and he couldn't help but wonder if someone else was now occupying the sacred space. He could see the light on in the window, the one he knew to be the bedroom – their bedroom. Gwen had loved that space. Her entire face had lit up when she'd walked into the room and seen it in person. The fireplace, complete with gas logs, had been something she'd always dreamed of, and he'd made certain it was built exactly to her specifications. The tufted headboard had been a surprise that he'd seen her eyeing in a catalog but, even knowing they could afford it, she'd been reluctant to choose. But even with all the beautiful accoutrements, it was the antique floor lamp she loved most of all … the one he now saw being carried down the steps.

* * *

Phyllis sat the lamp down beside her car as she quickly popped the trunk. She shook her head as she lifted the cardboard boxes into the trunk. Leave it to a man to think this was okay, she thought to herself. She'd known that Nick had purchased this house as a foreclosure. Many of the larger items, things that were considered to be of value, had been cleared out and auctioned off long before he took ownership, but there were some things, things like clothes, and pictures, and lamps that remained. These items had been boxed up by the decorators and left in the closets for Nick to 'deal with'. She closed the trunk before opening the back door and sliding in the lamp. This was how she would be dealing with it. There was something strange about living in a house with someone else's stuff inside. She didn't feel right about it and she knew Nick wouldn't mind. If she hurried, she could make it to Goodwill before they closed.

* * *

Cameron watched her intently, his eyes following her every move. He watched her as she closed the door of the car and rushed back into the house. He watched her as he reached down for the black duffel bag and gripped it in his now trembling hands and stepped out into the cold night air. He barely heard his own car door shut behind him, the sound of his own heart pounding drowning out the sound of anything and everything else. His body stood, pressed against the darkened corner of the garage as he watched her return to the car and slide into the driver's seat. She had what he once did, the luxurious life, the house … what should have been his and she didn't even appreciate it. It was in boxes, as if it was garbage. He was silent, like an intruder … in his own house and he remained that way until she backed out of the garage and the door slowly closed down.

Cameron felt the breath finally leave his body and he looked up towards the door, thankful to see she hadn't bolted it behind her. He knew this kind of complacency, the comfortable feeling that came with thinking your life was exactly as it should be. He used to feel that way too, used to believe that everything was perfect and that nothing bad could happen. He knew better know and she should too. He gripped the handle of the duffel bag tighter, the smell of the gasoline wafting up through the night air and into his nose. He climbed the few steps to the door slowly before turning the knob and stepping inside.

* * *

She pulled back into the garage and reached around to undo the seatbelt. The darkened car was suddenly with light and she smiled as she saw Nick's name flash across her phone. "Tell me you're on your way home," she cooed in lieu of a greeting.

He smiled at the sound of her voice as he walked quickly through the parking lot. "Sexy and prophetic," he grinned. "I'm on my way to the car right now. I just thought I'd call and see if you wanted me to pick anything up on the way. Have you eaten?"

"Not really," she admitted. She'd been too busy working on ridding the home of the tainted memories of a couple that hadn't ended so well to think about food. "But honestly, I'm not that hungry …" She felt her lips curve into another sneaky smile, "Not for food anyway." She heard his breath on the other side of the line and grinned wider.

"Well, maybe for afterwards," he laughed. "I can pick up something if you want. Any requests."

"Surprise me." She stepped up the steps and paused, sniffing the air for a moment.

"What's that noise?" Nick sat still as he began to back out of the empty Dark Horse parking lot. "You're not getting sick on me, are you?"

"No. I just …" She sniffed again, trying to place the strange odor. "It's a weird smell in the garage almost like …" She thought before finally arriving at the conclusion … "Gas."

"That's strange." Nick paused for a moment. "Well, if you can smell it, it's probably okay. All the deadly stuff is supposed to be odorless, right?"

She laughed a bit in spite of herself. "Well that's … comforting I guess."

He heard the slight hint of concern in her voice. "Hey, I don't have to stop if you really think there might be something up. I can be there in ten minutes."

"No. No. I'm sure it's nothing. I probably accidently splashed some gas on my shoes or something the other day when I filled up. I'm sure that's what it is. Grab something for us to eat on your way. I plan on working up quite the appetite later."

She ended the call just before opening the door. She reached over and dropped her keys. They should have gone into the small bowl, the one that sat on the table – the table she'd placed by the door for that specific purpose. Her eyes moved to the floor where they keys now lay. The table was no longer there. She turned towards the den, her mind racing as she tried to make sense of it. Her footsteps were hesitant as she moved into the room. The warmth of the burning fireplace normally soothed her, but tonight, it filled her with dread. She hadn't left it on. Someone was here … in this house … with her.

And she had no idea who it was.


	3. Chapter 3

Fear was first. That was natural. She had no idea who it was. She had no idea where they were and she didn't know why they were there. But secondly, and perhaps even more strongly, she was angry. How dare someone come into this house. They weren't supposed to be here. They hadn't been invited here and for them to come into her house and …

The sound of the footsteps above her stopped her thoughts. This was no longer a concept, no longer a scenario to consider. She had to act now. She had to do something. She reached for her purse and reached inside for her phone, the sound of the unexpected ring startling her.

"Nick." She pressed the phone to her face as she glanced towards the stairs and moved further back into the room away from the sight line.

"Phyllis?" This might have a been a new relationship for them, but they had so much history together, that at times it felt as if he'd known her his entire life. Phyllis had gotten him through one of the worst losses he'd ever experienced and they'd created something of a kinship together. He now knew her better than almost anyone did. The instant she said his name, he knew something was wrong. "What's the matter?"

"I …" Her mind raced again. She knew him well – too well. He was probably on his way and telling him this would only lead to recklessness on his part. Nick was fiercely protective of the people he cared about and nothing would stop him from getting to her. She wanted him here, but she needed him safe. "Are you almost home?" She tried not to sound desperate though the tremble in her voice was almost impossible to quell.

"I'm waiting on the food," he said quickly. "You sound weird. What's going on?"

"It's just …" She hesitated again, hearing another sound. She stopped talking, her entire body stilling as she waited for the next move.

"Phyllis?" He repeated her name again as he looked back at his phone screen. The call hadn't disconnected. "Are you there?"

She held her breath. "Just hurry home okay? Please." She pressed the red button and let the air slip through her lips slowly.

"Phyllis!" It didn't matter that he'd now attracted the attention of half the restaurant. Something was wrong and he had to find out what. He waved to the waiter as he stood up. "Cancel it," he called before rushing out into the cool, night air.

* * *

He felt sick inside as he looked around the room. It was all gone … all of it. The floor lamp, the framed pictures on the bedside table, the furniture, the artwork their son had created. They had stripped it all away. He had created this home. He had lived in it, loved in it, and lost in it. And now … he had lost it. His eyes drifted over to the duffel bag. Without even touching the zipper, he knew what was inside. It had been weeks since he'd packed the contents and since he'd made the silent deal with himself.

At first he'd been able to convince himself that she was simply too angry and too hurt to hear him out. He'd told himself that after a while, a few days, a few weeks, a month – she'd come to her senses. She'd hear him out. She'd let him see Maxton. She'd begin to understand why he'd made the choices he had. She'd see that he hadn't been trying to deceive her or hurt her. She'd finally get that everything he'd done, had been for the express purpose of protecting her, of keeping their family together and safe. He'd told himself these lies over and over again until the continued disappointment simply became too much and he began to doubt everything he once knew. It had been then that he'd packed the bag, a mix of lighter fluid, cloths, and memories … complete with one other thing – a loaded handgun.

* * *

She looked towards the stairs again as she waited to hear the voice on the other side of the line. "Yes," she said softly, her eyes closing in grateful thanks. "This is Phyllis Summers. There's someone in my house and I need some help." She paused as she listened to the response. "No, I … I don't know. I just … I can hear them upstairs and I know it's not someone I know. My boyfriend isn't … He's not here and …" She swallowed hard, suddenly aware of how dry her mouth had become. "414 Woodridge Court," she said as quietly as possible.

* * *

"Damn!" Nick tossed his phone into the passenger seat as he pressed down harder on the gas. The unsettled feeling in his stomach only seemed to grow in intensity as he drove down the darkened streets. She hadn't answered his questions when he'd asked if something was wrong. Her evasiveness was telling, but her tone was even more disturbing. She sounded almost … frightened and Phyllis didn't frighten easily.

He replayed every word she said, trying desperately to think of something that might give him an indication of what was wrong. His mind flashed to her conversation earlier about the smell of gas, but he pushed it out of his mind almost as quickly. There was no reason for her to be frightened about that. The tone was far more concerned, far more immediate, almost pleading … desperate.

The traffic light suddenly switched to red and he huffed again. He needed to get to her, to see for himself that she was okay. Deep down, he already knew she wasn't.

* * *

One more month and then he no longer had to live with this misery. Yesterday had marked that month. Cameron sat down on the edge of the bed as he looked around the room. There was something almost comforting about finally making the decision. He'd kept the promise, at least the one he'd made to himself. He wouldn't have to hurt anymore. No one would. The insurance would cover everything. They'd all be better off and he could die in this house … just like he planned.


	4. Chapter 4

He was methodical as he doused the cloths in gasoline and strategically placed them throughout the room. Gwen had accused him of many things before throwing him out of this very room, not the least of which had been being reckless and thoughtless. He wouldn't be either of these tonight. He had gone through this in his head more times than he cared to count and each time, the outcome seemed more logical.

He was everything he hadn't been before. He was informed and ready, prepared and capable. It was a painless way to go – the fire didn't get you, the smoke would and doing it here would significantly reduce the suspicion of suicide. He didn't really want to die. He just didn't want to live this life anymore. The gun had simply been a safety net. In case he failed in his endeavor as he had a habit of doing recently. He couldn't walk out of here alive … not again, not alone.

One final look around the room and he knew he was finished there. There was much more to do, many more rooms to visit. He grabbed the bag and walked towards the door, his breath catching as he headed towards the stairs. It was then that he saw the shadow pass across the wall. For a moment, he thought he'd imagined it. So many nights, he'd watched as Gwen had held Maxton in her arms and walked him back and forth in that den. Perhaps he wanted so badly to believe she was here that his own mind was conjuring the image and yet even as he thought it, he knew it wasn't true.

Cameron stood totally still and completely silent as he waited, his heart pounded in his chest until her wide eyes finally settled on him.

* * *

She looked at him and then at the door. Before she could make it to the hallway, he had descended the stairs, taking them three at the time, and made it to the space in front of her. His hands gripped her wrist, tight, but not painfully so.

"What do you want?" She fought not to sound afraid. The bravado she claimed had vanished almost instantly when she'd come face to face with him and in this moment, all she wanted, was to get out, to find Nick, to be in his arms.

He could see it all over her face, the fear, the anxiety, the desire to be anywhere but close to him. "I don't want to hurt you. You weren't supposed to be here." The words came out with almost no emotion. Somehow he had managed to mess up even this.

"I live here," she managed defensively. "Nick and I live here and he's on his way, so you should go because if he finds you here, he's going to …"

"I'm not going anywhere. This is my house. This wouldn't even be a house if it weren't for me. He took it … just came and ripped it out from under me like it was nothing, like it meant nothing." His voice shook as he remembered the moment the realization had hit. Things had been on a downhill slide for a long time, far longer than Gwen knew and he'd done everything he could to fix things, to keep them afloat, but after a while, the bottom fell out. And then … it was like dominoes. First it was the job, then the luxuries that came with it – the cell phone, the company car, the expense account. Then it was the household bills, the cable, the lights, his son's tuition, and of course, the mortgage.

He'd come home from another soul sucking day of job searches to find Gwen on the front porch with tears streaming down her face. She'd said nothing, her eyes screaming far more than her mouth ever would. She'd glared at him one final time before shoving the foreclosure notice into his hands. He'd never been more ashamed of anything.

"I don't understand."

The sound of her voice brought him back to the present. "I wouldn't expect you to." Somehow the sight of her made him angry even though he had no way of knowing if she had anything to do with any of it. "Do you know that this house belonged to a family? To a husband and a wife and a little boy? Do you know that people built this house? That it was their dream? That it was supposed to be the house they lived in for the rest of their lives?" The volume of his words steadily increased as his anger did and he found himself screaming into her now frightened face as she stepped away from him.

"Look." She held up her hands in the small space that now separated them, desperate to calm him somehow. "I don't know anything about any of what you're talking about. I just moved in here with Nick and … Maybe you're confused. Maybe this isn't the house you think it is. Maybe …"

"You don't think I know my own damn house!" He screamed the words as he grabbed her shoulders tight. She drew in a breath, a result of fear more than pain and instantly braced herself, not sure of what to expect from the sudden outburst of anger.

Cameron dropped his hands, the shame he'd felt when his wife had thrown the notice at him now being challenged. He'd never done a thing like this before. "This is my house," he repeated, deliberately taking a step back and lowering his voice. "You don't belong here."

He watched as she considered his words. "That smell," she whispered. "I smelled it in the garage. What did you …" Her eyes widened a bit as her mind slowly linked the pieces together. "Oh God …"

He stopped, his entire body stiffening as he rushed to the window that overlooked the front yard. His eyes darted back to look at her. "You called the police?"

She swallowed hard. "You're in my house. What did you expect me to do?"

It was too late now. The die had been cast. "I'm going to live the rest of my life in this house," Cameron said again. "And apparently, so are you …"


	5. Chapter 5

He ran his hand over the back of his neck. This was where he always felt his stress first. Gwen was the best at talking him down, only she wasn't here now and that was only part of the problem. "I didn't want it to go like this," he muttered as he reached for her arm and began to lead her into the den.

She could feel the desperation in his actions. Nothing was worse than feeling desperate. It made you do crazy things, things you wouldn't normally do, things you knew were wrong, things that didn't make sense. She'd been desperate before. Desperate people were dangerous. "It doesn't have to go like this." She spoke as calmly as possible as she tried to meet his gaze. "I'll go tell them it was a mistake. I'll tell you're here to fix something. I'll tell them I didn't realize that Nick called you. They'll leave. They'll think it was just a misunderstanding."

"You're lying to me."

"I'm not. Just let me go talk to them and explain and everything'll be fine." She could feel her entire body trembling as he gripped her arm and pushed her towards the couch.

"You're not gonna do that. You'll go out there and you'll tell them everything. You'll tell them why I'm here. You'll tell them what I planned." He could sense it now, when people were lying to him, when they were filling his head with visions of grandeur only to pacify him in the moment. They'd done the same thing to him during the investigation. The woman interviewing him had been so kind and so full of reassurances. She'd agreed with everything he'd said and she'd seemed to be so understanding as he'd explained his reasons for everything he'd done. It wasn't about breaking the law, it was about saving his family. He wasn't trying to get rich. He was just trying to survive. She'd blinked up at him with those big brown eyes and recorded his every word. All the while she'd nodded her head and spouted empty promises that everything would be okay.

It most certainly was not. He lost everything, his job, his reputation, his family … all of it. He wouldn't be lied to that way again. He was smarter now. He knew better. Nothing would ever work out for him. It would never be okay again.

* * *

"Sir, I'm sorry but we're not allowing any traffic through this area."

Nick threw the car into park and roughly ripped the seatbelt from around his body. He was standing outside the now parked car before the police officer could respond. "I live here." He pointed towards the house where he saw a group of officers congregated. "There actually." He could feel his heart racing as he asked the question that was screaming inside his mind. "What's going on?"

"You live there?" The young officer turned and called out a name.

It wasn't one he recognized and Nick watched as a virtual stranger approached him. "Who are you?" Nick spat. "I'm Sergeant Brunson. I'm handling this case. Are you the owner of the home?"

Nick nodded. "I'm Nicholas Newman." In most instances, he didn't like to throw around his last name, but in situations like this, he found it helped. The name Newman seemed to inspire people to make things happen, to move a little faster, to make sure that no corners were cut. He could immediately see the Detective react and he stood a little straighter himself as he continued his conversation. "Phyllis Summers … she lives with me. She's inside. Is she alright?"

The older man nodded towards the younger officer and he stepped away towards the group of officers that still stood near the cars on the lawn. "Mr. Newman," Sergeant Brunson began, "We received a call from Ms. Summers that indicated she believed there was an intruder in the home. We sent out a team of officers and, upon the arrival, they noted a suspicious vehicle near the premises." He gestured towards the car on his left.

"I don't know whose car that is," Nick said quickly. "Neither of us have a lot of visitors come by the house. There's no reason anyone would …"

"We ran the plates. They belong to a Cameron Brooks. Does that name mean anything to you?"

There was a flicker of recognition somewhere in his mind and then a sickeningly sobering realization. "He was the owner … the builder of the house. It was a foreclosure. I own a real estate development company and …"

The sergeant nodded. "Mr. Brooks has had some financial difficulties as well as a few other issues in the last few months and we have reason to believe he might have come back to the house with some less than wholesome motives."

It was a like a kick in the gut.

"Mr. Newman?" The look of horror that had flashed across his face was something he'd seen far too often in his line of work. "If there's something you can know or something you remember that could help us get an idea of what we might be dealing with in there …"

"Phyllis …" He reached out to grip the side mirror of his car, needing the extra stability to steady himself. His legs felt as if they might give out beneath him. He hadn't taken her comments seriously. If he had, she might not be here now. He could have stopped this. If he'd just listened to her … "She called me earlier, when she was coming home. She had just driven back into the garage." Piece after piece of this horrible puzzle seemed to fall into place in his own mind and each tiny bit of data seemed to make him feel even more guilty. "God," he breathed. "She was probably just about to walk into the house. I could have stopped her." He looked up at the man's stone face, expecting to see more compassion, more feeling, more something …

"What are they doing?!" He yelled as he looked over to the group of three officers that now stood gathered around the car. "Aren't they gonna go in there? Aren't they gonna try to help her?"

"Mr. Newman," Sergeant Brunson said again, "The worst thing we can possibly do is go into a situation unprepared. We need to know as much information as we can before we go into that house. We don't want to do anything to put anyone in any more danger. So please, if you could just finish what you were saying."

He forced the anger back down, willing his body to relax as best he could. "She said she smelled gasoline. What if …"

"Sergeant!"

Both men turned towards the voice across the yard. Nick followed the sergeant's quick steps as he walked over to meet them.

"What is it?"

The officer pointed down at the driveway. The small dots of liquid could have easily gone unnoticed until now. The cool night air brought with it a brisk breeze and they all understood the significance. Their steps were slow and deliberate as the followed the trail towards the garage door. The odor only intensified as they got closer.

Nick watched silently as the officer stooped down, his face very close to the concrete. He nodded as he stood up again. "Definitely," he said with a nod. "Some form of accelerant."

"Okay." He couldn't remain calm any longer. "So what do we do? How do we fix this?"

" _You_ don't do anything." Sergeant Brunson eyed him carefully. "We will handle this. Right now, we need to assess the situation and determine the best course of action."

"And while you're doing that, what's happening inside? How do we know what he's doing to her? You said he's had _issues_. What kind of issues? How dangerous is this guy?" He knew he should be calmer. Hysterics weren't helping, but this felt every kind of wrong. They were far too calm and somehow his reaction seemed to at least balance things. "You're the police. You're supposed to be protecting people. He doesn't belong in there. Why don't you and get him out?" He stood, waiting for someone to respond. "Or I will." He moved towards the garage door, only to feel hands on his shoulders almost immediately.

"Mr. Newman."

He turned towards the man's stony expression again.

"Please. Don't do anything foolish."

He hated this … feeling helpless. "What do you expect me to do?" His voice shook as he said the words. He and Phyllis had just found some happiness again. This wasn't fair. "I can't just sit here and do nothing."

"If you want to help her," he said, "you can … and you will."


	6. Chapter 6

"Sit down." He was more determined than ever now to get this right – as right as it could be now. "I don't want to hurt you, but …"

"But what?" The open ended statement made her insides quiver and she looked up at him as she desperately tried to read his expressions. "Nothing has happened here that can't be undone. If you'll just let me go out there and …" She stopped, the look in his eyes abruptly changing.

"I already said no," he snapped. "You're gonna listen to me now, okay? I'm calling the shots here. This is my house, my life! I get to say what happens and when it happens!" He was through with watching things happen to him. For the past few months he'd felt like a bystander in his own life. He'd sat back and waited for Gwen to change her mind. He'd sat back and hoped that she would begin to soften towards him, that her heart would mend, but it hadn't and now … if anything was ever going to change, it was up to him. He might not be able to fix the mess he'd made of his life, but he certainly didn't have to be trapped in it anymore.

"I don't understand." Phyllis struggled to shift forward on the couch. "I don't understand why you're doing this. Why do you need me here?"

"I don't," he admitted. "You weren't supposed to be here. This was supposed to be different … so different. Everything was supposed to be different."

Nothing was going to change by arguing with him. That much was clear, so maybe she could reach him. Maybe if she just tried to talk … "You said this was your house," she said quietly. "What did you mean?"

"My wife and I, we sat down with plans and we created this place. This was our house, our dream. We lived here. We brought our son home here. We were supposed to grow old here." Even as he said the words, he grew angrier. "And then, just as soon as things got hard, a Newman, like the vultures they are, came in and just ripped it away."

"You lost your house?" Phyllis said the words tentatively as she watched him slowly sit down beside her. It was then that her breath caught as she saw it, the unmistakable flash of dark metal that, until now, had been hidden by his jacket.

He didn't miss her reaction. "It's just …" His hand reached inside the jacket, gingerly touching the cool barrel of the gun. "I didn't come here to hurt anyone. I just want it to be the way it's supposed to be. This was supposed to be our house. This is supposed to be where I lived my last days and that's what I want it to be."

"It doesn't have to be now though. We can work something out. I'm sure I can talk to Nick and if he understood what happened …"

A puff of air escaped his lips as he stared at her incredulously. This truly was how the other half lived. "Your white knight can't write a check and fix this," he snarled. "It's way too late for that now. Even if he handed this house back to me on a silver platter, what good would it be? It's empty now. I have no one to share it, no one to fill it with joy, with laughter, with love. My wife is gone. My son is gone. They think I'm a failure, a liar. And you know what, maybe I am. Maybe they're right, but I won't fail at this this. I'll make sure that all the people that took so much joy in watching my downfall understand what it feels like. I'm gonna make sure that the Newmans of this world know what it feels like to lose something they care about. They'll feel helpless. They'll watch as something they care about is ripped away from them. All their money and all their power won't be able to help them now because now … in this moment … I'm in charge." It felt good, for once, to have the power.

She couldn't help the feeling of absolute terror that washed over her as she heard the almost vindication in his voice. "What are you going to do?"

He managed a smile, perhaps the only genuine one he'd had in months, "I'm going to enjoy my last stand."

* * *

"Sir!"

Nick turned quickly, his attention moving towards the window to which the officer pointed. His body lurched, almost of it's own accord towards the garage door again before he found himself being pulled back. "You can't just expect me to …"

"Wait." The sergeant's voice was serious as he stared at the window where Phyllis now stood in full view.

* * *

"Who's out there?" Cameron asked.

She faltered. Her eyes were fixed on his, the fear and terror she felt inside mirrored in the look on his face. "I …" she managed.

"Answer me!" He yelled as he rushed up behind her and grabbed her shoulder roughly. He pulled her away from the window, and turned her body towards him. "I asked you a question and I expect you to answer me." This wasn't him, this gruff, brutal person, but he had to do it. He had to step outside of himself right now. This was the only way he could do this, the only way he could make certain that his final attempt at vindication was successful.

"Nick," she said in a mere whisper, "And some officers … the police." Her eyes blinked back tears as the situation become more real with each passing moment. "I don't know exactly how many." She tried to breathe in deeply, but her chest ached with anxiety. "What are you going to do to me?"

He forced himself not to react to her sincerity. "That depends," he said gruffly.

"On what?"

"On how much you can help me. On how much that man out there cares about getting you out alive …"

"Nick will do what you want. You don't need me here. If you just let me go and talk to them, I can …"

"I've already …"

It happened so fast that she almost didn't have time to feel real terror and it wasn't until the cool metal was pressed against her back that she truly understood the abrupt shift in the situation.

* * *

Nick watched in abject horror, the entire event happening in seconds in reality but playing out in excruciating slow motion in front of him. Phyllis now stood in front of the window, the gun pointed directly at her. The face of the man behind her was barely visible, her body shielding him completely.

He turned towards the sergeant, knowing all too well, he'd be stopped the instant he attempted any movement. "You've got to do something," he hissed.

Sergeant Brunson nodded. "Call them in," he said briskly to the other officer before turning and heading off towards the cars.


	7. Chapter 7

"Sorry," Mariah said quietly as she reached for the phone. "Just pause it for a minute. It's work. It must be important."

Sharon nodded. She didn't exactly have the right to be annoyed that Mariah had a life, one that occasionally interrupted their cable movie night marathons. She was all too aware that most of this was about pity. Mariah hated the thought of her mother sitting in the house all alone and would conveniently find movies that she 'just had to see' on an almost weekly basis. Tonight was another must see movie of the week that was far too syrupy for her to believe it had any place on her daughter's queue. Still, her social life was just pathetic enough not to refuse any offer. "No problem," she muttered as she obediently pressed the button on the remote.

Mariah shook her head. "No. I … I don't know anything about that. Well, yeah I guess we would if … And you're sure that's exactly what they said? There's no chance you could have misunderstood?" She glanced towards Sharon for a moment, grateful that her eyes were focused elsewhere. "Go ahead and send someone, but don't run anything until you get an actual quote. The last thing we need to do is rattle the cage of a Newman." The mention of the name seemed to catch Sharon's attention and she turned to stare at her intently. "Keep me updated, okay?" She ended the call quickly, already poised to answer the pending question before placing the phone back onto the table in front of her.

"I don't really know a whole lot yet," she said as calmly as possible, "but that was one of the ringers from GC Buzz and …"

She could see the seriousness on her face and it was obvious … "What?"

"They said they heard a call over the police scanner that a team of hostage negotiators were being called out to 414 Woodridge Court."

"Woodridge Court? That's where Nick's new …" She stopped. "Wait Nick is …"

"I don't know." Mariah stood up quickly and searched the room for the coat she'd discarded somewhere. "I don't have any information except that it's Nick's address, but I'm going to go to the studio now and see what I can find out." Her hand rested on Sharon's shoulder. "I'll let you know as soon as I know something, okay?" She could see the concern that had already taken up permanent residence on her face. "Just try not to worry."

* * *

"So what's the plan?" Nick looked at Sergeant Brunson as he walked over to the car. He had no idea how much time had passed … how much time he had spent with his feet glued to the pavement, watching helplessly as Phyllis stared at him through the window. All he knew was that she was now gone. The window was now covered with curtains again and he had no way of knowing what was going on inside that house, what she was going through, what he might have been doing to her.

"When do you go in?" Nick asked in panicked anguish. "What are you waiting on? If you need more resources – I'll give you as much money as you need. I can make some calls and …"

"Mr. Newman …"

Nick knew the look. He'd seen it plenty of times in the past. It was the annoyed look of people that regarded him as entitled. He was about to be informed for the millionth time that being a Newman didn't give him the right to expect any special treatment.

"I understand that you're worried and believe me, we all want to end this as quickly as possible, but we have to make sure that we're following the proper procedures and protocols so that everyone is safe and …"

"Everyone isn't safe!" The initial plan of staying calm and being respectful had long since been abandoned. "Phyllis isn't safe! She's in there with a man that, by your own admission, has had some issues in the past and we have no idea what he's capable of. Actually, we do … We know that he had gasoline with him which suggests, at least to me, that he didn't go in with the best of intentions, so I don't know … call me crazy but …." He was nearly screaming now and the sound of tires rolling up behind him easily blending in with the noise in his own head.

"Absolutely not."

Nick watched as the large man waved the officers over, his face morphing into a much more stern, annoyed expression. "What are you?" He turned and finally understood. In the midst of the newly arriving hostage negotiation team were vans and cars equipped with cameras and equipment. Members of various media outlets were now climbing from vehicles and clamoring to the get the best view of the house.

"Make sure this whole area is secure," Brunson barked. "The last thing we need is for this to turn into some media circus."

"I couldn't agree more." Nick turned to face the new voice.

"Commander Keith Von Lutken," the man said as he extended his hand. "I'm heading up the hostage negotiation team." He turned towards Sergeant Brunson. "Your officers have been filling me in on the details, but I'm hoping you can give me some more information as well." He looked over at Nick. "Do you know Mr. Brooks at all? Any past dealings with him?"

"Uh … indirectly, kind of. I …" The yelling of the reporters behind him was distracting and he turned, for only a moment to see the group of officers as they argued with the persistent gathering.

"You may have to do something to address that," Von Lutken said. "I know we normally advise not to engage the media in situations like this, but we're dealing with a high profile individual here and once they've got wind of this, they're not gonna back off until you give them something they can run with. At least if we issue a statement, we can control what information is out there and we keep the wild rumors from spreading."

"What do you think?" Sergeant Brunson looked over at Nick. "Are you up for this?"

"I want her out of there," Nick said quickly. "However we do that. Whatever I need to do, I'll do it."

* * *

"Sit down," he hissed. The sound of her muffled sobs weighed on him as he tried to look away. There was nothing in him that relished causing her any real pain. This wasn't who he was. It wasn't even who he wanted to be. The reality was that she wasn't supposed to be here. This was, yet another thing in his life, that hadn't gone as he had planned. The difference tonight was that he was going to see it through … no matter what.

"Are you going to kill me?"

Hearing the words surprised even him and he turned to look at her finally, against his better judgement. "What?"

"Is that your plan? To kill me? To punish my family or Nick or to make a point or something? Is that why I'm here?"

Cameron watched her for a long moment. The fear on her face was completely genuine yet the power it afforded him didn't feel nearly as satisfying as he'd anticipated. He felt guilty and ashamed and, if it was possible, maybe even worse than he had when he'd arrived here tonight. Was this the legacy he wanted to leave for his son? Was this what Maxton would tell people about his father? The idea of it made him feel sick and his legs suddenly felt weak as he lowered himself to sit down beside her on the sofa. "I don't want to," he said honestly. "None of this is what I wanted."

"So then, just let me go. I'll just go and we'll do what I said before. I'll explain everything and I'll tell all of them that this was just a huge misunderstanding. I'll be there to stand up for you and I'll do everything I can to make sure that you get all the help you need."

"You can't help me. No one can help me. My wife and my son hate me. Everything I've ever cared about has been ripped away from me and nothing you can say or do is ever going to change that." The reality slapped him in the face again. "None of this is what I wanted, but it is what it is and unfortunately for you …" He looked down at the gun in his hand and nodded before holding it out in front of him. "Reality just sucks sometimes."


	8. Chapter 8

"I told the media that we would issue a statement to the press in an hour, so we have a bit of time to get our information together."

Nick looked up in disbelief as he paced back and forth in front of the two men. "Look, that's fine and everything but can we just talk about how we're going to get in there. He had a gun! Am I the only person who remembers that?"

"Mr. Newman," Commander Von Lutken took a step towards him, his face painted with the typical understanding expression. "I understand you're concerned, but we've dealt with these situations time and time again. I've personally been on this team for …"

"I don't give a damn how long you've been here! I don't care how many cases you've had or how many times you've talked people down. The only thing I care about is the woman in that house. She isn't some statistic. She isn't a case. She isn't …" He stopped talking as he turned to look towards the window again. Part of him hoped he would see her there. Even though the sight of her trapped behind that glass made him sick, it also comforted to know that she was at least okay enough to stand in front of him. He could see her face, her eyes, her expression and most importantly, she could see him. She at least knew he was there. She at least knew that he cared enough to stay, to watch, to fight. He hadn't said it enough to her. They'd been so hellbent on not getting serious that it had somehow escaped him how serious it had gotten.

"The anger is perfectly normal. None of us like to feel that we're out of control and in this situation, unfortunately, there are some things that we simply can't control."

Nick's eyes shot up to meet the Commander's as he said the words. "Whatever kind of intro to psychology bullshit that is, you can keep it."

"So you've got all the answers, huh? Alright. Tell me then, what should we do? You want us to bust in there and spook him? What do you think that'll accomplish?"

"I …"

"Let me tell you just in case you're not sure … We spook him, we push him too hard, we make him feel like he's backed into a corner, that woman in there has virtually no chance of coming out alive." He waited a moment watching as the words settled. "Listen, I know you want to help. I know, that in your mind, this is infuriating because in your world, you make a phone call and things happen. You're used to people falling all over themselves to do whatever it is that you want, but right now, all your money and all your power are useless. Right now, the best thing you can do is sit down here and answer the questions we have. Give us some information. Help us help you. Help us help her."

Nick nodded and silently sat down in the small fold out chair.

* * *

Her hands shook as she held the phone. "I don't understand." Phyllis looked up at him again. "What good is it going to do for me to …."

"You know what I don't understand?" Cameron gripped the glass of scotch tighter in his hand. "I don't understand why you keep questioning what I tell you to do. Do you not understand that I'm standing here with a loaded gun? Do you not realize that at any moment I could kill you? Do you think I won't do it? Is that is? Do I need to prove to you that I'm …"

"No. No. You don't." She could see him growing more and more irrational. "I was just asking how calling Nick would change anything. You didn't even want the police here and now …" Every word she said felt like walking a tightrope. Giving him another opportunity to back down had to balanced against the potential for enraging him. "If I call Nick and say what you want me to say then this all becomes a lot more serious. Is that really what you want?"

"You think this is what I want? You think any of this is?"

"Of course not. That's not what I meant. I'm sure it isn't. I'm sure everything that's happened here feels like a nightmare to you, but I still believe that we could fix this. I really do and I swear to you that …" She watched as he held the gun out towards her.

"I'm gonna tell you one more time to make the damn call."

The balance had shifted and now, the only move she could make was one of total obedience. She took a breath, and slowly brought the phone to her ear.

* * *

 _4 … 3 … 2 … 1 …_

 _We're on location tonight at Woodridge Court where a hostage negotiation team has just been mobilized outside the home of Nicholas Newman, CEO of Dark Horse Corporation and son of the well known business mogul Victor Newman. At this time, details are limited, but our sources have gathered that Phyllis Summers, CEO of Jabot Cosmetics, is thought to be inside with an unknown individual. Summers and Newman have been divorced since 2013 but have recently been dating and are thought to be living together. The Genoa City Police Department will be making an official statement at the top of the hour. News 21 will keep you covered._

* * *

"Jack."

Jack turned around at the sound of his name, the words of the reporter still echoing inside his own mind.

"What was that? Did that … Did they?" Billy felt his mouth grow dry as he stared at the screen. The picture had now turned to a weather map, the previous story now forgotten, but not to him and, judging by the look on his brother's face, he wasn't alone.

"I'll drive," Jack said solemnly as he moved quickly towards the coat closet.


	9. Chapter 9

"We're working on getting in touch with someone from Foster Construction. We need to get the building plans for the house so that we can have a good idea of the layout. That way if we do decide to go in, …"

"If …" Nick widened his eyes as he glared at him. "What do you mean if? You have to go in. You can't just wait and see what happens. She's …"

"Mr. Newman, that wasn't at all what I was implying. I simply meant that we needed to have a solid plan before we attempted any sort of entry so that it would be as safe as possible for everyone involved." The Commander watched as Nick let his shoulders drop a bit.

"Right." Nick let his breath out a bit. "I'm sorry. I just … I know she's in there and I can't stand to think about what she might be … She shouldn't be in there. She didn't have anything to do with any of this."

"You said you had some dealings with Mr. Brooks indirectly? Is that correct?"

He nodded. He had to focus now, to answer their questions. That was the best way he could help Phyllis now, perhaps the only way he could actually be of any use to her. "I own Dark Horse Corporation. We buy and sell real estate and when I was looking for a new house, I got the notice about this place. It was in foreclosure and I knew the neighborhood. Homes in this area don't become available very often, so when they are, you just have to sort of jump on them and …"

"So you bought the house?"

"I did. I didn't ever meet him face to face, but I was told that there was some discussion between him and the bank about trying to make some arrangements. In the eleventh hour, he was trying to come up with some money to buy the house back or to pay the back mortgage payments, but I made a really strong offer and …" He stopped talking and looked up. "I kind of ripped it out from under him I guess."

"Did he ever try to contact you?"

"There were a few messages left for me at the office. I recognized the name, but I never called him back. I knew he was the former owner and I figured he was angry about my move with the bank, so I figured I'd save myself the trouble. Now I wish I'd answered. He probably thought I was some elitist. He probably thinks I don't care about anyone but myself. This is probably his way of …"

"Mr. Newman, I can assure you that this is not a direct result of anything you did or didn't do. Cameron Brooks has been exhibiting irrational behavior for some time, so whatever happened here tonight wasn't about you."

Nick watched as the Sergeant and Commander shared a look and nodded. "That might be true," he sighed, "but I'm sure I didn't help matters and now he's found a way that he can punish me. He's gonna go after the things that I care about. He's gonna try to take away the things that matter most and …" The sound of his phone nearly sent him jolting out of the chair and he reached into his jacket quickly. His mouth was so dry he could barely manage to speak as he looked up at the men in front of him. "It's her," he whispered. "Phyllis."

"Put it on speaker," the Commander ordered, before turning around towards the crowd behind him. "I need everybody silent. Now!" He nodded towards Nick who shakily pressed accept on his phone.

"Phyllis," he breathed. "Are you okay?"

* * *

She could feel his body hovering over her, the angry presence making it hard to keep it together. She wanted to scream, but doing so would only exacerbate an already unsettled situation. "I'm okay," she said shakily. "Just ready to get out of here." She could hear his own nervous breaths on the other end of the phone.

"What does he want? Why is he keeping you in there?" Nick looked up towards the Commander who shook his head in approval.

Cameron leaned in still closer to her, his breath now warm against her cheek. She knew what to say. They'd discussed it in detail and, unless she was feeling incredibly brave, she'd follow his instructions this time.

Phyllis shook her head slowly, her eyes pleading with him as he showed her the gun again. His message was all to clear and she needed him to know that she understood. "His name is Cameron Brooks. Do you know who he is?"

Nick closed his eyes as he heard her voice again. They'd been through so much together and hearing Phyllis truly afraid was such a rare thing. He hated it. "Yeah," he sighed. "I know who he is. He owned the house before me. He and his wife."

She heard Cameron's sharp intake of breath and she knew exactly what she was expected to say. The feel of cool steel against her back served as yet another reminder. "It's his house," she said quietly. "We stole his house."

"I didn't …" He felt the hand on his shoulder and stopped. Commander Von Lutken's eyes shone brightly at him and he shook his head ferociously. Nick swallowed before gathering his thoughts. "I didn't mean to do that. I didn't know everything that was involved. We can work something out. I'm sure of it. Put him on the phone. I'll talk to him and we'll get everything settled. He can have the house if that's what he wants. I'll pay for it. Anything he wants, Anything he needs."

It wasn't her voice that he heard now.

"You'd love that wouldn't you, Newman?"

Nick sat up straighter at the sound of the male voice.

"You'd love to be able to throw around all your money and power, to toss some crumbs my way and just make me go away? That's what you and your family are used to doing … paying people off and making people jump through the hoops you set up."

"That's not what this is about, Cameron. I swear it. I just want Phyllis to be okay. I just want you to let her go. I get that you're upset. I get that you feel like I treated you badly and that I took something away from you and I did, okay. I get that now and I'm sorry. You might not believe that and you don't have to, but I just want you to understand that Phyllis didn't have anything to do with any of this. She doesn't need to be in there. She's not the person you're angry with." He felt totally and completely helpless. Nothing was worse than this.

"You're right about that," Cameron smiled, the hopeless sound of Nick's voice bringing him a strange sort of joy. "She's not the person I'm angry with, but she's the perfect insurance policy. See I have been at the mercy of people like you my whole life. You were the people that ran the companies I worked for. You were the people that owned the banks that mortgaged my house, the ones that refused my refinancing requests, the ones that wouldn't help me with loans. People like you looked down on me when I went in to interview for jobs. You wouldn't help me, wouldn't listen to me, wouldn't even give me the respect of a sit down conversation. People like you ruined me. You took everything from me including my self respect and now, I finally have the chance to take something from you."


	10. Chapter 10

"Wait! Wait a minute … Just … !" Nick tossed the phone hard into the seat of the chair before looking up and meeting the eyes of the man in front of him. "He hung up. He's gone."

The Commander nodded thoughtfully. "It's alright," he said as he placed his hand on Nick's shoulder. "You did a nice job. You got him talking. At least we know where his head is. At least we know what he's thinking."

"How is that a good thing?" Nick stammered. "He sounds like he's just waiting for a chance to make me suffer and right now he's got the perfect opportunity. Phyllis is nothing more than a pawn in this game to him and there's no reason for him not to hurt her. What kind of assurance do I have that he won't decide to …" His throat closed up as him mind considered the possibility. He really could lose her tonight.

"Actually I think I can help you with that. It's what you said earlier. You mentioned that Ms. Summers called you and told you that she smelled gasoline when she arrived home. Is that correct?"

Nick turned towards the Sergeant. What did it matter what he had said earlier? What did it matter what anyone said? No one seemed to be interested in doing anything. They were all just standing there, talking about things, considering courses of actions without any action actually taking place. "Yeah," he spat. "Yeah, that's what I said, but I don't understand why any of that matters as much as getting someone in there and trying to get her .."

Sergeant Brunson held up his hand. "Brooks was already in the house. He didn't come here anticipating to have a hostage. He didn't know Phyllis would be back. He specifically entered the house with the knowledge that she wasn't in it because we know he entered through the garage. He would have seen the car was gone and, judging by where his car was parked, it's entirely possible that he's been watching the house." He watched as Nick seemed to calm by just a fraction. "So you see, this isn't what Cameron Brooks had planned either which means he didn't come here with the intention of hurting anyone except possibly himself."

"But what if that just makes it worse?" Nick sat back down in the chair again. For ever potential piece of good news he allowed to enter his brain, he felt immediately beat down with the balanced negative consequence. "What if the fact that she showed up and ruined whatever he had planned just makes him angry? What if he just wants to get rid of her? What if he sees her as an unnecessary complication?"

"That's not what he said though, is it?" It was the Commander that spoke now. "You heard him. He said that Phyllis was his ticket to getting back at you. As long as he feels like she's got a purpose, she's safe."

"She's not safe until she's out of there."

A sudden burst of activity erupted behind them.

"What's going on here?" Sergeant Brunson looked up at the two men fighting past the line of officers. "No one is supposed to be in this area."

"Nick!" Jack's voice bellowed out through the night air. "What the hell is going on here?"

"It's okay," Nick said as he looked back towards the Sergeant. "I know them. It's her ex husband, Jack Abbott and her …" He paused for a moment, not completely sure how to describe who Billy was to her. "Jack's brother, Billy."

The Commander lifted his hand and waved the two men through.

"We saw the news broadcast," Jack said quickly as he stepped towards Nick. "I was hoping there was some kind of mistake and that they'd gotten their details wrong, but …." He hadn't needed any further clarification. It had been the look of complete helplessness on Nick's face that had told him the whole story. It was true. Phyllis was inside that house.

"So, it's true then?" Billy glanced towards the house, his mind filled with questions and regrets and so many other things that he couldn't even fully comprehend. "What are they doing? What's the plan?"

He turned towards Nick, his eyes full of expectation. For the first time, quite possibly in forever, he felt they would be on the same page and, just as he'd expected, he saw a sort of understanding there.

"I don't know," Nick said quickly as he turned back towards the officials. "I was just asking them the same question. You have any answers for us yet?"

"Actually," the Commander nodded, "We do have an idea." He took a deep breath and let his eyes fall seriously on Nick's, "but we're gonna need to buy some time. That's where you come in."

* * *

"Here." Cameron held out a glass filled with sparkling water.

The air left her lips in a quick puff. "What are you trying to do? You're treating me like some kind of houseguest now? Offering me a beverage?" The look on his face made her instantly regret her words. It was a special kind of stupid to get an attitude with a man holding a gun. "I didn't mean to …"

He shook his head. "It's alright. You want something stronger instead? The scotch is good … not that I'd expect anything less in a Newman house."

She tried to manage a smile, but the lump inside her throat seemed to grow too large. Each movement of her mouth seemed like a threat to her air supply and she could feel her hands as they fought to keep from trembling. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see him as he slowly walked over the sofa and sat down beside her. He turned towards her slowly, his eyes studying her face intently. She waited, silently, for him to speak.

"You know, this isn't the way I wanted to go. It isn't the way I thought it would go. It wasn't always like this. I thought I could have a life like this." He lifted his hands and raised them as he looked around the room. "All of this was mine once. I thought about growing old here with my wife. We'd spend nights by the fire, having top shelf scotch, reading stories to our son, having holiday get togethers and work socials." The memories were still so vivid in his head. He'd constructed this life with so much detail that it still seemed like a reality that was just inches out of his reach.

"Your son?" It was a risk, but if anything could awaken the humanity in a person, it was a child. She knew this from first hand experience. "You have a son?"

Cameron nodded. "Maxton. He's six. My wife …" He stopped. "Well, she's still my wife right now, but she's doing everything she can to change that."

There was pain all over his face as he said the words. Pain could easily morph into rage and rage was dangerous. She reached out and placed her hand on his arm. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "I know how much it can hurt to lose someone you love."

"What do you know about loss?" People like her might truly experience pain, but their giant bank accounts and luxurious life styles no doubt made the tragedy easier to bear. It was far more pleasant to wallow in 1000 thread count sheets.

"More than you know," she admitted. "I've made a lot of mistakes in my life too and people have forgiven me for them. I'm just lucky that I've found people that were willing to give me a second chance. Maybe that's what you need too. Maybe you just need a second chance. I could try and talk to you wife for you if you think that'll …"

He was on his feet before she knew it. "You think that's gonna get you out of here?" His voice was suddenly elevated and she could see the abrupt change in his demeanor. "You think you can just say some nice words and manipulate me like that? You're not gonna get Gwen to change her mind. You're not a magician. You might have money, but you don't have that kind of power. No one does. Nothing will fix this. You hear me? Nothing. Except ending it. Ending it is the only way that the pain stops."


	11. Chapter 11

Nick tossed the paper on the hood of the car. "You actually want me to say this? You want me to stand there on national television and act like I stole this man's home out from under him? You want me to make him out to be some kind of martyr?"

"This isn't about the facts right now, Mr. Newman. It's about getting everyone out of this situation as quickly and as safely as possible. Right now, Mr. Brooks feels like he's been treated unfairly. He feels like everything he's doing right now is in response to the wrongs that were committed against him. If you go up there and admit to doing everything he's accusing you of doing, it gives him a little bit of credibility."

"He doesn't deserve any credibility. Nothing that happened to him could make what he's doing to Phyllis okay. She's got to be scared to death in there." He looked back towards the house, hoping to get another glimpse of her through the window. Even as hard as it was to see her there, it gave him a bit of assurance just knowing that she was still there, alive, and reasonably alright.

"I'm sure she is and that's why we need you to do this for us. We've got to brief the media. A statement from you could go a long way towards keeping him calm. That's what we need right now. We need him calm and as relaxed as possible while we work on figuring out a way to get into the house and get Ms. Summers out of there." The Commander waited for Nick's response. It was obvious he wasn't thrilled about giving Cameron any allowances, but he wanted this over and he was willing to do whatever it took to make that happen.

Nick was silent for a moment, his eyes steely blue as he stared into those of the Commander. "If I do this, you're gonna figure out how to do in there? You'll figure out how to get her out?"

"You have my word," the Commander said gruffly. He hated making promises in his line of work. It wasn't something he felt he had the right to do. Things changed far too quickly and the individuals with whom they dealt were too erratic to accurately predict. "We'll do our best."

He huffed as he picked up the paper again. "I guess I'll have to take that then, won't I?"

* * *

"I didn't mean to upset you," Phyllis said quietly. She stood up slowly taking a step before stopping herself and reconsidering her decision to approach him. "And I wasn't trying to manipulate you. I just … I could see that you miss your family and if there was something I could do to help."

"Help yourself you mean …" Cameron turned back towards her quickly. He watched as she flinched and backed away from him. She was afraid of him and although that had been the intended purpose, it didn't feel good. He didn't want people to fear him. That wasn't who he was. He just wanted his life back. He let the gun drop by his side as he watched her walk back to the sofa and silently sit back down. He joined her after a moment, his words finally breaking the silence. "It's funny, you know?"

"What's funny?"

"You hear people say all the time that they didn't know how good they had it until it was all taken away from them, but I did know. I knew how lucky I was. I never took Gwen and Maxton for granted. I loved my job and my family and I always appreciated them. I didn't lose them because I didn't take care of them. I didn't lose them because they didn't feel important. I lost them because I fought too hard to try and keep everything. When things at work really started to fall apart, I did what I thought I had to do. I didn't think I had a choice. They wanted me to find out the information and so I did. I gave them what they wanted and instead of being grateful and protecting me the way they promised me they would, they rolled over on me and left me high and dry."

"So you lost your job?" Phyllis watched as the story seemed to play out across his face. There was a mix of embarrassment, pain, and anger all mixed together there.

"I lost my job. I lost my reputation. They charged me with all of these crimes that I didn't even know existed. I was all of sudden some mastermind in this scheme that I wasn't even aware of. All I was doing was following my boss' orders and now I don't have a job. I don't have a resume. I can't ever work for a financial institution again and …" He watched as she shook her head. If he didn't know better, he'd swear her expression was genuine, but he'd fallen prey to that before. No one really cared about what he felt. "Don't give me that look," he grumbled. "I've seen it before. The people that interviewed me in the police station. The lawyers at the hearings … all of them. They all seem so nice and compassionate as they're writing you off for the rest of your life."

"That's not the kind of person I am. I certainly don't have any room to be judging you. You know that saying, people in glass houses shouldn't throw stones? Well, let's just say, I've built myself a glass castle over here and I've learned not to toss anything larger than pebbles." She felt a small wave of relief pass over her as she watched a small smile curve across his lips. "Is that why your wife left you? Because you lost your job?"

Cameron shrugged. "That would have been too easy," he sighed. "That was just the beginning of the story."

* * *

 _"Good evening. We're here at Woodridge Court where there is hostage situation underway at the home of Nicholas Newman. In just a few moments, Sergeant Brunson of the Genoa City Police Department will be issuing an official statement about the case. Nicholas Newman will also be speaking for the first time about this tragic situation. And I see Sergeant Brunson is stepping up now, so let's listen in …"_

 _"Hello everyone. I'm Sergeant Brunson of the Genoa City Police Department. We will be providing the media with limited details and we will not be answering any questions at this time. We ask that you please respect the investigative process as we work hard to resolve this situation in the safest manner for everyone involved. At approximately 8:30 pm this evening, Genoa City Emergency Services received a phone call indicating a possible intruder in the residence. Officers were dispatched to respond. Upon arrival, officers found the car of Cameron Brooks on the scene and upon further investigation, this was deemed to be a hostage situation. Specialized teams have been called in to deal with this. The hostage inside the home is Phyllis Summers. She is thought to be unharmed. Nicholas Newman, the owner of the home, would like to make a brief statement regarding the situation and what is currently being done to resolve it. Mr. Newman?"_

 _"I'm Nicholas Newman. Most of you are probably familiar with my family. I'm sure many of you would expect me to stand here and offer money for a reward if anyone can help or do anything, but that's not what I'm here to do. I want Mr. Brooks to know that I understand why he's doing this. This house once belonged to him and it still should. Mr. Brooks is in this situation because I took advantage of his misfortune. He fell upon hard times and instead of stepping in and helping him when I had the opportunity to do so, I chose to manipulate the situation and use my money and power to abuse the system. Mr. Brooks doesn't deserve to be in this situation. I want him to know that I understand what I did and that I take responsibility for it. Phyllis Summers had nothing to do with the incredibly cold hearted decisions I made. I am begging him not to ask her to answer for choices I made." Nick turned and looked at the Sergeant who nodded in approval. "That's all I have to say."_

Nick stepped down as the flurry of questions were lobbied at the Sergeant.

"That's your plan?"

Nick looked up. "What?" He felt sick after saying the words, few of which he'd actually meant. "You think you could have done better?"

"I think I wouldn't have sat up there and pretended that the man in there torturing Phyllis was some poor, unfortunate soul."

"I didn't want to do it," Nick said defensively, "but they said it was the only way to keep him calm and they need to buy some time so they can figure out a way to safely go in."

"It's your house," Billy said gruffly. "If anyone would know how to get in, isn't it you?"


	12. Chapter 12

He should have known better, better than to have given Billy Abbott the benefit of the doubt for a even a second. To have thought they could have found some common ground, even for Phyllis' sake had been ridiculous. This was all about posturing just as it always was.

"You think I haven't thought about it? You think I wouldn't like to go in there myself? You think I wouldn't trade places with her if I could?"

Billy chortled as he looked him up and down. "What I know is that you're out here reading the man that's holding Phyllis hostage some kind of love letter."

Nick drew his hands closer to his side as they tightened into fists. "I'm doing what they asked me to do, what they," He stopped and pointed to the men now huddled around papers and plans, "advised me to do in order to keep her safe. Since they're the experts here, I thought maybe I'd give them a chance and see what they could do."

"Because they're doing such a great job studying those plans and all. In the meantime, what's going on in there?" Billy turned towards the house and pointed to the still covered window. "You have no idea what she could be going through and you're content to talk to the press and watch as the so called experts have a coffee klatch over blue prints?"

"Why don't you just shut the hell up? You don't know anything about this."

"I know I wouldn't be just standing here. I know I wouldn't let somebody tell me that I couldn't go into my house. Phyllis is in this situation because of you. She never would have ended up here if you hadn't pissed this idiot off and now you're just gonna sit back and watch. You're just gonna wait and hope that things work out? What kind of bullshit is that? You know, I've got my issues with your father. Victor Newman is a son of a bitch, but the one thing I will say for him is he doesn't sit back and wait for things to happen. He goes in and makes things happen. I thought maybe you had a bit of that in you."

"Billy boy has a point."

Billy turned, his face betraying his surprise. "It's like Beetlejuice," he muttered. "It's like I summoned him."

"And it's a good thing you did," Victor whispered, taking a step closer towards Nick. "I wouldn't have known anything about this if I hadn't been watching the news this evening. Why didn't you call me, son?"

Nick shook his head. "I haven't called anyone," he admitted. "Everything's been happening so fast that I've just been kind of overwhelmed."

"Not everything," Billy spat. "No one is going in there. No one is actually helping her."

"I heard what he said," Victor replied gruffly, "and although he said it in his typical unrefined manner, he has a point. The police have protocol. They have procedures. They have rules they have to follow. I don't. I can do this son. I can get Phyllis out of there."

"No." His voice was adamant as the word echoed through the air. "You're not gonna do anything, Dad. I appreciate the fact that you came down here, but if you're gonna try to interfere then …"

Victor nodded. "Excuse me…." He stepped over towards the Sergeant.

Nick sighed audibly as he watched Victor take over the situation. "Dad," he began.

Sergeant Brunson waved his hand toward him. "It's alright," he continued. "Mr. Newman," he said politely before extending his hand. "It's nice to see you. I wish it were under different circumstances."

"As do I. I understand that you're heading up this negotiation?" Victor crossed his arms across his chest as he sized up the team. They seemed competent enough though a far cry from the group he would be able to assemble in a moment's notice.

"I'm the local lead, but we also have a hostage negotiations team on site. Commander Von Lutcken is heading that up."

"I see and I take it they've already made contact?"

"Mr. Newman," Sergeant Brunson began, "I understand your concern and I will be more than happy to keep you informed, but right now we're simply trying to get some information together so that we can get a good idea of what we're working with. We will definitely establish a communication pattern, but right now we need to take this slow. The last thing we want to do is make Mr. Brooks feel as if we're backing him into a corner."

"Sergeant!"

"If you'll excuse me." Sergeant Brunson walked away quickly.

"They're doing the best they can Dad," Nick protested. "Believe me, I'd like to get this over with too, but I can't put Phyllis in any more danger."

"Don't you hear what they're saying, son? They're worried about how all this is gonna make this man feel. They're worried that it'll put him in a bad mood, that it'll back him into a corner. Well he damn well should be backed into a corner. What do you think he's doing to Phyllis in there?"

Nick hung his head. "I don't even want to think about that. I can't think about it. I just have to trust that they are gonna do whatever they have to to get her out of there." He watched as his father studied him, his expression something akin to amazement.

"I hope you don't regret this someday, son." Victor shook his head in marked disapproval before walking away.

The hustle and bustle of the scene was his greatest advantage. No one was paying much attention to him. His words had been sincere enough to convince his father and Billy detested him enough to believe that he'd been willing to sit back and let things happen. In truth, he had far more of his father in him than anyone would ever believe.

* * *

"What's the rest of it?" Phyllis asked quietly.

Cameron lowered his head. "Looking back at it now, I should have just been honest with her. As soon as things started to go bad, as soon as I had the first hint that things weren't quite right, I should have just told Gwen the truth. She would have understood. She would have helped me. She probably even would have known what to do, but instead I chose to keep it all from her. I made some really bad choices. I kept lying and then when it all fell apart, it was like this giant blindside. But even then, she didn't leave. It wasn't until later. I had been looking for work for months and I couldn't find anything. Once you get fired for gross misconduct and have a few felonies on your record, the job interviews and references just dry right up." He managed a sarcastic laugh as he took another small drink from the scotch glass.

"Anyway," he continued, "I didn't want her to worry. I didn't want her to feel like she had to live a different life than the one I'd promised her. We had gotten Maxton in this great school and it was costly and I couldn't stand the thought of not being able to provide that for him. I knew I needed money and I knew I couldn't the job, so I got loans, but not from banks. Banks just laughed at me. And then I couldn't tell her where I got the money from, so I lied and told her that I found another job, but then I couldn't just stay home during the day when I supposedly had another job, so I had to leave the house every day and I'd just go and roam around town and it just got so complicated and crazy and eventually the money ran out and the bills got behind and they came and took the car and then the bills piled up and …"

He could see the look of understanding on Phyllis' face. She nodded for him to continue.

"Once she got the foreclosure notice on the house, it was over. And not because we lost the house, but because she knew the lies had been so big by that point. There was so much I hadn't told her that even I couldn't sort it all out. She just packed everything and left and she took Maxton. She said that she didn't think he should see me right now because I'm not 'in a good place'." He shrugged as he took another drink. "Whatever that means." His eyes roamed the room. "I guess, if I'm honest about it, this probably isn't the best place, is it?"

She thought for a moment, unsure of how she should respond. Sincerity wasn't always believable and he didn't always appreciate compassion. "I think it sounds like you've had a really terrible time of it," she said as honestly as she could. "And truthfully, if I'd gone through everything you had over the last few months, I can't promise you I wouldn't be in exactly the same place you are." The look of genuine surprise washed across his face as he turned to stare at her.

"I'm not a bad person." The words were quiet as he said them, as if he was trying to convince himself as much as her. "I've made mistakes, but I'm really not a bad person."

"I believe that," she whispered. "I believe you're reacting to things that happened and …"

She jumped at the sound of her phone. The screen lit up and numbers flashed across it.

"Who is it?" he said quickly.

"I don't know the number," she answered. "It's probably the police."

"Answer it." His tone had completely changed, the former warmth now gone. "And remember." He lifted the gun off his lap before lowering it again, his eyes still flashing a bit of softness towards her. "Don't do anything stupid."


	13. Chapter 13

The dramatic swings in tone and mood made her feel slightly crazy and she felt her entire body tremble as bit as she nodded and brought the phone to her ear. "Hello," she managed.

"Phyllis?"

It was a voice she didn't recognize and she felt her heart sink a bit. Even though the number hadn't been his, she'd been hoping to hear Nick's voice, the sound of it something she could hold onto, his comforting tone something she put her hope in. "Yes," she replied. "It's me. I'm here."

"This is Commander Von Lutken." He looked back towards the Sergeant and nodded, affirming that he'd made contact. "I'm glad to hear your voice. We're all happy to hear you're okay. Can you do me a favor?"

She looked up towards Cameron. His eyes widened in curiosity. "I'll try," she said.

"Put me on speaker. I want to make sure we're all having the same conversation, okay?"

Phyllis lowered the phone and turned slightly to face him. "He wants me to put it on speaker."

Cameron nodded.

"Alright." Her throat was so dry she thought sure her voice would simply die out soon. "You're on speaker now. Go ahead."

"That's good. Cameron? Can you hear me?"

She could almost see the thoughts as they ran through his head. It was as if he knew this was a pivotal moment. As if somehow this one instance would impact him forever.

"I hear you," Cameron said with an almost emotionless tenor. "But don't think you're gonna manipulate me into letting her go. I came here to do something tonight and this time I'm not gonna mess it up. I have a plan and I'm gonna see it through. You people messed with my mind last time and it isn't gonna happen this time."

The Commander turned back, his eyes meeting Sergeant Brunson's. Brunson shrugged, not entirely sure to what Cameron was referring. His life had been a series of unfortunate circumstances lately, but there was no way to know exactly which incident the police department was being blamed for.

"Whatever it is that you think we did," Von Lutken said cautiously, "I'm sure we can make it right."

"See, that right there!" He was on his feet again, the manic anger returning. "You still won't take any kind of responsibility for what you did. You lied to me. All of you did. You convinced me that if I just told you the truth that everything would be okay, that you would make sure I would come out of all of it unscathed. Does this look like okay to you? Because it sure as hell doesn't to me!"

"Alright. Listen. Listen. Whoever told you those things wasn't fair to you. They shouldn't have made you promises that they didn't have the authority to keep. That won't happen here. Not tonight. Not this time. This time I'm the one in charge. You're talking to the only person that has the authority to make any promises here and if I make you a promise, you can bank on the fact that I can make it happen. Whatever promises I make to you are promises that I'll keep." He paused, listening as Cameron's breathing settled a bit. "So why don't we talk about that. Why don't you tell me what I could do to get you out of there?"

"This isn't about you," Cameron huffed. "Even if you could give it all back, the things I lost weren't just things. They weren't just items that you can buy and replace. That asshole Newman didn't just take my house from me. He took …"

"He knows that. He admitted it. If you turn on the television, you'll see. He's on live television telling the whole word what he did. He's admitting what he took from you." Von Lutken waiting, hoping against all hope that something he said would make a difference.

"It's just empty words. It's just posturing for the cameras. They're good at that, putting on a show for the press. Saving face is what they do best … He doesn't mean anything he says."

"Why don't you ask him yourself? The two of you can talk it out. You can work things through. All he wants is to make this right."

"You want me to talk to him? I'll talk to him. There's plenty I'd like to say, but I'm not sure I'm in much of a mood for listening." Cameron watched the varied emotions that flashed in Phyllis' eyes. The mere mention of Nick brought simultaneous comfort and concern. "Put him on," he said succinctly. "Let me explain the situation to him … in small words that he can understand."

Von Lutcken sighed, disheartened to know that his speech had done little to deescalate the situation. His eyes scanned the area for Nick. "Where is he?" he hissed to Sergeant Brunson. "Where's Newman?"

"He was right over there." Brunson whispered as he stepped further out towards the periphery of the crowd. "I don't know where he would have …" His voice stopped as he glanced towards the now hanging caution tape. "Damnit!"

The phone now felt impossibly heavy in his hand as he looked back towards the house. Cameron and Nick would be talking sooner than he thought, but it very possibly could be face to face.

* * *

Nick stood inside the garage as his heart pounded. He stared up the steps. Once he made the decision, once he opened the door, there would be no going back. His mind replayed the words of the Sergeant. Was he really doing the right thing? Were his actions making things more dangerous for her? Could he live with himself if he simply stood by and watched while other people took action? What if something happened to her? He'd always wonder if things could have been different. Those questions would haunt him for the rest of his life.

No. He whispered out loud as his breath now made a small white cloud in front of him. He had to do this. He had put her in this position. It was up to him to get her out. He drew in a deep breath, climbed the steps, and silently pushed open the door.

* * *

"Where the hell is your son?" Sergeant Brunson bellowed as he stepped over to Victor.

"What are you talking about?"

"Your son," Brunson bellowed again. "We can't find him and I can't help but think that genetics may have led him to believe that the police might not be the best qualified to handle a situation like this. I happen to know that you have a fondness for walking in the middle of investigations." His eyes studied Victor's face.

"I have a fondness for handling things if you must know. You'll recall that the last hostage situation I handled ended with both women being released unharmed and pretty damn quickly. My son though … he's not interested in taking matters into his own hands. He told me that himself. He's perfectly willing to sit back and let you people do your work … even if it does take you until the New Year to do it."

"So then where is he? I'd like to hear that from him." Von Lutken stepped up and gestured to the crowd which still was eerily devoid of Nick. "He's completely gone, Mr. Newman. You'll excuse me if I don't believe he went for a coffee run."

Victor felt his throat thicken a bit as his own eyes searched the darkened street. "I'm sure he …." His eyes focused on the house, the hanging crime scene tape now catching attention as well. "You damn well better have a plan now," he growled. "If you think I'm going to let my son take the fall for your incompetence, you're out of your mind."


	14. Chapter 14

"What?" Phyllis watched as Cameron tossed the phone onto the sofa beside her. "I thought you were going to talk to …" Her eyes darkened slightly. "Where is he? Where's Nick?"

"Maybe he's not as worried about you as you think he is," he said flatly. "Those talking heads claim they'll have him call back. No doubt they're going to coach on him on what he can and can't say. People like him don't know how to think for themselves. They've been so programmed their whole lives that nothing that comes out of their mouths is actually genuine. It's all a product of some well orchestrated publicity stunt."

She shook her head. "Nick's not like that," she sighed. "He's not. If he'd known everything that you'd gone through, he wouldn't have let the deal happen the way it did. I know it. Nick cares about people."

"If he cares so much, where is he? Why isn't he on the phone? Hell, why isn't he barreling in here to save you?" He leaned closer to her and watched with interest as the questions reflected in her eyes. "I'll tell you why. Nick Newman cares about himself and only himself. He cares about other people if and only if it suits him. You are an afterthought at best."

"That's not true. You don't know him like I do. It's not fair of you to say that."

"You know what's not fair. It's not fair that Nick Newman has this house. It's not fair that Nick Newman has a woman willing to fight for him and stick up for him. It's not fair that Nick Newman can treat people like total garbage and still manage to be beloved around this damn town. While someone like me, who adored his family, who would have walked through fire for them, makes a few mistakes for damn good reasons and is treated like some kind of demonic force. That's what's not fair."

* * *

Nick listened intently as their voices carried throughout the room. He winced as he heard his words. It was bad enough that she was in this situation. It was even worse that it had nothing to do with her, but by far, the worst of all was hearing her defend him when he wasn't sure he deserved defending at all.

* * *

"You're right." She would be foolish to try and convince him otherwise especially in the current situation. "What happened to you wasn't fair and I'm sorry, but Nick didn't do this. He wouldn't. And if you'd just let me talk to him and explain what's happened, I know we could get all of this worked out."

"And how exactly does it work out? Is it worked out when I end up in jail? When my wife and son end up with absolutely nothing? When you and your white knight get to ride off into the sunset and continue to live your charmed life? Because that doesn't work for me! I know you people are used to just writing me off, but it's not gonna happen like that this time. Do you hear me?" He loomed over her, his voice now deepening, the tone turning more menacing. "I'm tired of waiting on other people to decide how things go. I have the power to make things happen and I might as well take advantage of that." He reached into his pocket, his fingertips clasping around the lighter. He watched in satisfaction as her eyes widened in terror.

"What are you gonna do with that?" she whispered.

"You strike me as an intelligent woman. You figure it out."

The two people inside her were constantly at war. The Phyllis that normally fought for dominance was strong and ballsy. No one told her what to think, what to say, or how to act. She was fearless, brazen, and decisive. This wasn't the Phyllis that appeared in the room tonight. This Phyllis was hesitant, insecure, and frightened. She was in survival mode, afraid to say or think anything that might prompt another outburst of irrational anger from him. She was tired of fighting the two dichotomies within her own psyche, tired of feeling powerless, but most of all, she was just tired of being afraid.

"So do it then!" It was either incredibly stupid and ill advised or the only rational move she could make. Either way, it was done now. "If you're so intent on destroying the house, then why are you sitting here torturing me and torturing yourself? Just get it done. But tell me again how this helps anything. Tell me how burning the house down makes your life better. How does it help your wife and son? Because in my mind, all it does is ruin every single good thing you built here. As long as this place exists, you still have the memories and you still have hope of making things right … of making things better. If you just give up, that's all gone and you'll just …"

"Would you just shut up!" Cameron's voice rang out through the house. "You sound just like all those other blowhards that have tried to fill my head with that bullshit about how everything will be okay if I just tell the truth, if I just hang in there, if I just trust them. You're full of it. Just like the rest of them and I'm sick of it. If it means I have to shut you up to make my point …"

"You've made your point."

She felt her entire body grow cold as she heard the familiar voice. "Nick." Her lips formed the word even as no sound came out. She was filled with simultaneous relief and terror. His presence gave her comfort, but she instantly now recognized they were both in imminent danger.

"Well … Well … Well …" Cameron reached down to pick up the gun, now turning to aim it directly at him. "So you weren't happy with just chatting on the phone, huh? You wanted a real face to face meeting?"

"What I want right now is for you to let her go." He tried to say calm even as his heart thundered in his chest. He could see the fear in her eyes even as she tried to put on a brave face. "She has nothing to do with this. You're angry with me and that's fine, but she wasn't involved with any of it. Just let her go."


	15. Chapter 15

"Let her go?" It was an almost amusing request. "You can't honestly believe that I'd do something that stupid. She's the best leverage I have right now and, as an added bonus, she's a good way to stick it to you and I'm not about to miss out on every possible chance to do that." Cameron smiled as he watched the expression on Nick's face change.

"Cameron Brooks!" The sound startled all of them as it rang out through the silence that now settled over the room.

Commander Von Lutken stood outside, his hand gripped around the base of the megaphone as he waited for a response. "It'll work," he said quietly, as he turned back to look at the woman that stood behind him. "You were right to agree to this. You're gonna help a lot of people tonight."

"Mr. Brooks, we need you to come to the window. There's something you're gonna want to see."

"Sounds like they want to talk to you," Nick said as he stared icily at him. "You're not the least bit interested in what they want to say?"

"I'm just gonna need some company." Cameron reached out and grabbed her arm. "Come on," he said gruffly before lifting the gun slightly to prevent Nick's almost certain interference. "Just in case you were getting any renegade ideas," he muttered.

The sight of watching her, completely at his mercy made him sick inside, but there was little he could do especially now. Every move he made directly impacted her safety and his pride could never be take precedence over her well being. "Don't hurt her," he managed, the lump in his throat a mix of guilt and anger. "She didn't do anything to you."

"I'm okay," Phyllis said reassuringly as she felt her body being pushed towards the window, her chest pressing towards the glass as she served as a literal shield.

* * *

"Movement!" One of the officers yelled.

The Commander nodded.

"She's in front of him again," the officer noted. "We don't have a clear shot."

"No guns," the Commander directed. "We don't want to escalate anything. Right now this has been fairly peaceful and we hope to keep it that way." He looked back towards her as his finger hovered on the button again. "I'm just gonna talk to him a little bit and then I'll hand it off to you, okay?"

"Are you sure this is gonna work? I'm afraid this might upset him even more."

"He's here because he feels like he's lost everything," the Commander reminded her. "Your being here will remind him that there's still a chance."

"But there's not … I mean, I don't know how I feel about lying to him when …"

"There's a woman's life at stake here. We need to get everyone out of that house alive. I'm not asking you to promise him anything. I'm just asking you to try to remind him that there's still a reason to go on. The last thing we want him to think is that his entire life is meaningless. Talk about your son. Talk about the memories that you have. Talk about the good times. Focus on that. Can you do that?"

"I'll try," she said weakly.

"Good." The Commander lifted the megaphone. "Cameron," he said again, "I've got someone here that really wants to talk to you. She saw the news tonight and came down here. She was worried about you. She doesn't want to see you do anything that's gonna get your hurt. She doesn't want to see anybody get hurt. I want you to listen to her, okay? I want you to listen to everything she has to say." He handed her the megaphone and nodded supportively. "Go ahead. Just hold the button down when you're ready to speak."

Gwen drew in a deep breath, her entire body trembling as she forced her voice to sound powerful. "Cam?" she managed. "It's Gwen. I'm here and I'm really really worried about you. I'd really like to talk to you. I think it's important that we talk about this. I know you've been trying to contact me and I'm sorry that I haven't called you back. If I'd known you were this upset, I swear I would have called, but I had no idea, Cam. I didn't. Please don't do anything stupid. Just come out here and we'll talk, okay?"

* * *

Phyllis felt the grip on her arm loosen almost immediately. "Is that your wife?" she whispered.

Cameron nodded, his throat completely closed. Never in his wildest dreams would he have imagined Gwen would have cared enough to come. Was it possible that there was a chance after all? Was there some circumstance on this planet that would allow for a scenario that might put them back together again?

"It's good that she came, right? She still cares about you and she wants to talk to you. Maybe you should talk to her. Maybe the two of you can work things out."

Hope was a dangerous thing. Hope was what had got into this mess in the first place. Hope and trust and belief that people were actually good. He felt the anger welling up in him again. He heard her hiss as he fingers tightened around her upper arm again. "I didn't ask you to talk. You keep your mouth shut until I tell you otherwise, you hear me?!" He shoved the gun hard into her side and she yelped at the surprising jolt of pain.

"Leave her alone!" Nick yelled, feeling even more hopeless than before as he watched them. He wanted, more than anything, to go over and rip her away from him, but his bravado could also get her killed.

"That goes for you too!" he screamed. "Both of you just shut up!" The conflicting voices in his head continually fought for supremacy. He brought his hands to his head in an effort to silence them all. "I just need to think," he hissed. The brass lock slid easily as the window unlocked and he pushed the panes forward, allowing the cool night air to enter and his voice to easily travel through the air. "How do I know you're not lying?" he yelled.

* * *

Gwen swallowed hard. "I guess you don't," she answered back, the shaking of her hands making it increasingly difficult to hold the megaphone. "You'd have to come talk to me to find out for sure. Or else you could stay in there and never know." She waited, hoping to hear a response. Commander Von Lutcken gently touched her arm, pushing her on. "But if you plan on staying there," she managed, "At least tell me what you want me to tell Maxton. Tell me what I'm supposed to our son, Cam."

"He's not here is he?" The thought of it terrified him. The last thing he ever wanted was for his son to see him like this. "Did he see the news? Does he know?"

"No. He's not here and he didn't see it, but if you stay there … If this gets worse, you know he'll find out and this will be what he has to live with. This will be the legacy of his father. Is that what you want?"

* * *

It wasn't. The voices got louder in his head, sanity and senselessness all battling within. He slammed the window shut, letting the curtains fall over the window plane and jerking her back towards the couch.

She fell back down onto the cushions, as she watched his maniacal pacing. The warmth of his touch startled her and she felt his fingers squeeze hers tightly as their eyes locked. He knew better than to speak. They both did. At the moment, Cameron was preoccupied with his own internal struggle and that allowed them to have this brief reprieve from the nightmare that was this evening.

The look in his eyes said everything. There was a flicker of hope, a shred of belief that Cameron might actually give in and give up, but there also existed the measured dose of dread, the horrible, foreboding thought that as bad as tonight had been, it was about to get much, much worse.


	16. Chapter 16

"I almost feel bad for him," Jack said solemnly as he mumbled a thank you and took the cup of coffee from Billy's hand. "Victor has always wanted his children to follow in his footsteps. He groomed them from the time they were walking to be good little soldiers, to respect the family name, to honor the legacy, to be good little Newmans, but now … Watching his son do exactly what he would have done can't feel nearly as good as he thought it would. All that huffing and puffing and pushing Nick has led them here and now his son might never walk out of there alive. That's on his hands and that look on his face tells me he actually knows that. It's a heavy load to carry."

"You're giving Victor a hell of a lot of credit, Jack. Have you forgotten everything he's done in his life that he's managed to somehow not feel any guilt for? This is a guy that had you kidnapped and held captive for months. This is a guy that found a psychotic drug lord to take your places in this town. This guy watched as Marco interacted with your family, ran your company, and …" It was still hard for him to talk about it, he couldn't imagine how it must feel for Phyllis to live with it. "What he did to Phyllis … I still don't know how he manages to get up every morning and not feel any kind of remorse over that." He shook his head. "But he does. He's Victor. He somehow conveniently manages to circumvent any kind of culpability as long as it's in his best interest to do so. I seriously doubt he's experiencing some kind of internal turmoil over Nick's current situation. That look on his face is probably about the quality of the coffee more than anything else."

Jack sighed. "You might be right," he conceded, "but I still have to hope that there's some kind of humanity in there. If it were Kyle, I know how I'd feel horrible even imagining that I might have led to his decision somehow."

"You and Victor are nothing alike, Jack. You have a soul. Victor doesn't."

* * *

"Don't get discouraged. These things take time. Cameron has been dealing with these issues for months and he's not going to magically just overcome everything in seconds. The fact that he didn't completely shut you down is actually a really good sign. It means you've got him thinking and right now, that's one of the best signs we can hope for." Commander Von Lutken patted her arm gently. "You think you might be ready to try this again?"

"I don't know," Gwen said shakily, "Maybe we should leave it alone for a while. He might feel like we're pushing him too much if we keep it up and I really don't want to see …" She stopped and forced herself to take a deep breath. Tonight had really put everything into perspective. It came as no surprise to her that Cameron was having a difficult time with their breakup but even in her worst nightmares, she would have never imagined he would do something this irrational, this dangerous, this reckless. "This isn't Cameron," she said softly. "I know him and for him to do something like this, he's just got to have totally and completely snapped. To be honest, that terrifies me because I'm not sure if I can help now. I'm not sure if anyone can and if something happens, if he does something that can't be undone, I've got to be the one to explain all of that to our son."

"The comment about your son is what seemed to get to him the most," Sergeant Brunson commented. "That's what shut everything down, so maybe that's what you lead with. Remind him of how important it is that he remains a part of his son's life. Tell him that he's got to come out of here so that he can still spend time with Maxton. If this gets worse, if someone gets hurt … he's going to be looking at serving time and I know he doesn't want his son to have to see him like that."

Gwen nodded. She reached for the megaphone and pressed down on the button. "Cam?" she called out. "Cam? Can you come back to the window, please?"

Phyllis braced herself as she felt Nick's fingers tighten around hers one final time as his eyes said everything he couldn't say aloud. She would pulled off the couch quickly and on her feet before she had a chance to protest. "I'll go," she said in a strained voice. "You don't have to pull me."

Cameron pushed her against the window, his arm reaching around her quickly and pushing the window open slightly again. "Gwen?" he called out, his heart beating faster as he saw her standing there in the midst of the rather chaotic scene. "Are you there?"

"Yeah," she said. "I'm here. I'm not going anywhere, Cam. I'll be here as long as you need me to stay. I want you to come out here and talk to me. I want us to talk about how we're gonna handle things with Maxton. He misses you, you know? He talks about you all the time."

"He does?" The words were almost a whisper and he heard Phyllis' voice quietly respond to him.

"She can't hear you all the way out there if you don't talk louder," she said.

He nodded and readied himself to call out again. "Maxton asks about me?" he repeated, his words louder this time. He waited for her response, the idea of his son missing him and wanting his presence should have filled him with guilt and it did, but it also filled him with a glimmer of hope. At least his son wanted him around. Someone in this world still had a purpose for him. There was a place for him, a place with his son, a place he could still matter, a place he could still do good.

Gwen felt the tears fill her eyes. As many issues as she had with Cam, she knew how much he adored their son. "Of course he does," she responded, her finger still pressed hard on the button, "He loves you. He misses you and he wants to see you. If you come out here, we can talk about that. We can set up a schedule so that you can see him and he won't have to miss you."

"Do you mean that?" He wanted so much to believe her, but trust hasn't got him very far in the past few months.

"Of course I do," she said, the guilt becoming almost overwhelming. Even if he came out right away, she knew there would be consequences and it was highly unlikely that there would be a normal visitation schedule for quite some time.

"She's not answering me," Cameron muttered as his breathing quickened. "That means she's lying.

"She probably just didn't hear you," Phyllis said quickly. "Ask her again." She closed her eyes in silent prayer.

"Do you mean that?" he repeated. "If I come out, you'll let me see Maxton?"

"Your finger has to be pressed down," the Commander reminded her. "If it's not, he won't hear you."

"Oh," she said with a sigh. "I'm sorry. I don't use this thing." She waved the megaphone in the air. "I said Of course I mean it. We'll make it work. We'll figure it out."

Gwen watched as the curtains suddenly covered the window again.

"She said I could see him," Cameron whispered. "If I come out now, she said I could see Maxton."

Nick watched carefully as Cameron walked back across the room. One hand still gripped her arm as the other held the gun to her side, but his mind was clearly elsewhere. He pushed her with less ferocity onto the couch as his attention finally turned towards them.

"I could finally see my son again. It's been months since I've seen him. I thought he hated me."

"I'm sure he doesn't hate you," Phyllis reassured him. "You're his father. Every son loves his father."

"She's right," Nick added. "Even with all the horrible things my father has done … and believe me, he's done plenty, I still love him."

"You really think he could forgive me? Even after this?"

"Kids are resilient." She could feel her heart racing as she watched his face. "They can forgive almost anything their parents do especially at your son's age. Right now you're still their hero."

"I want him to be proud of me," Cameron said quietly. "I haven't done much to make him proud lately."

"This could make him proud. You can make the right choice. Nothing you've done here is too bad to be undone. We can all still walk out of this and be okay. Think about your son, Cameron. Think about Maxton. Think about how happy he'll be to see you again."

"Okay," he said after a few moments of silence. "You go over there. You go tell them that I'll come out, but I'm coming with you and I don't want to see any guns. None. If I see guns, I don't come out."

She nodded. "Alright. I'll tell them." Her legs felt oddly unstable as she walked over to the window.

"Movement!" an officer cried again. "It's the woman. Looks like without Brooks."

"Cameron wants me to tell you that he's going to come out, but that I'll be coming out with him. There can be no guns anywhere in sight or the deal is off and he wants another confirmation that he is going to be allowed to see his son." She looked back towards Cameron who stood off to the side of the window.

He nodded at her, his hands clenched tightly as he waited to hear the response.

"Understood," Commander Von Lutken responded, "and I'll hand off the megaphone to Gwen so that she can answer the second question." He looked towards her. "Go ahead," he whispered.

"I don't know if this is such a great idea," she said quietly. "I feel horrible for lying to him this way. When he comes out, he's going to be so angry that …"

"Right now we need to get them out of there. We'll deal with the rest later. Gwen, we need you to do this." He shook the megaphone towards her again, his chest heaving as he saw her hand reach for it.

"Cam," Gwen called out again, "I'm here. If you come out, I'll let you see Maxton. I promise. We'll work it all out. It'll all be fine."

Cameron allowed his eyes to close and his shoulders to slightly relax. "Tell her we're coming out now," he said gruffly.

"We're coming out now," she said as she let the curtain fall in front of the window.

"You stay there," Cameron said as he pointed the gun at Nick. "When we're both out and clear, you can do whatever the hell you want."

Everything in him wanted to argue, but the gun pressed against her back stopped the words in his throat.

"Let's go," Cameron said as he guided her towards the door. The silence in the room was suddenly broken by a voice very familiar.

"I just feel so guilty. He's never going to forgive me for this. When he finds out that he's not going to get to see Maxton and that he's going to …. What? I didn't …. It isn't pressed … Oh God!"

Phyllis felt her body jerk before falling to the floor. Nick was beside her in an instant, his arms wrapping around her and thrusting in front. She heard the sounds of screams – her own, Nick's, Cameron's, and those of all the officers outside, and then she heard the shot.


	17. Chapter 17

It was close … too close. She'd felt it and she braced, fully expecting to feel the searing pain rip through her own body. Instead she felt him move in front of her, his breath catching in his throat as he tried to push himself up in front of her.

"Oh God," she gasped. "Nick. Nick. You …." She could see the spot of dark red beginning to spread on the light blue button down shirt. "Let me see," she demanded.

"Forget about me," he groaned. "It's nothing. I'll be fine. You go." He pointed towards the door, his eyes glancing towards Cameron who paced back and forth in absolute agony. "Go."

The words suddenly resonated, the reality crashing hard down around him again. It had happened again. He had allowed them to break him yet again. No more. His hands gripped the gun tighter as he felt fury rise. "One step and I swear I'll kill you both," he growled.

"Let her go," Nick protested. He gripped his upper arm, where the bullet had hit, with his hand as he winced slightly. "Just let her go. You don't need her. You have me. I'll stay here. I'll do whatever you want me to do. If you want the house, it's yours. I'll sign the deed over right now. Just have the papers messengered over. If it's money you want, give me an amount. I'll have them wire it to your account. Whatever it is …"

"I want you to shut the hell up," Cameron barked.

"He needs help," Phyllis said softly. "You shot him. At least let someone come and make sure he's okay."

"Good God," Cameron huffed. "He's fine. It's his arm and it's just a graze anyway. The bullet's in the mantle." He pointed over towards the now imperfect focal point. "If I'd really been trying to kill him, he'd be dead, believe me." He studied him for a moment, the concerned look on her face making him seethe inside. His eyes moved towards Nick again, his voice dripping with disdain. "You know, while your father was teaching you chess and water polo, mine was taking me hunting and teaching me how to bag and tag animals. If I can track and kill a spooked deer, I can certainly rid the world of the likes of you."

"You do whatever you want to me, but let her go." He felt her hand on his shoulder as the words left his lips.

"Stop it," she whispered. "Don't say that." She took a deep breath before speaking again. "Please Cameron, please. I know you're upset and I know you're angry, but we didn't have anything to do with any of this. Please don't take this out him … on us. We can still help you, even if they don't."

"No." He shook his head immediately. "No one can help me. I'm done with that. There is no helping me. It's all over now. No matter what I do, it's done. I'm finished."

She looked back towards Nick for only a moment. This type of hopelessness didn't bode well for either of them. If he felt there was nothing left to lose, there was absolutely no reason for him to let them out. He came into this intending to live out his last days in this house and if he was now convinced he had nothing left to live for, there was no reason he wouldn't fulfill that promise tonight … with the two of them inside.

"Listen to me." Her voice was more insistent now, the severity of the situation hitting her hard. "You have a right to see your son. Nick … his family, they have tremendous resources. They can help you. They have lawyers that can go to the family court and they can fight on your behalf. Even if your wife wants to keep your son from you, they can help you."

"That's the same bullshit those officers tried to tell me when they wanted me to roll over on the guys at work. Everything I did was just to help myself. They were gonna help me. They were gonna make sure that everything worked out for my good, in my best interest … If I'd followed my instincts then, I wouldn't be here now. I'm not listening anymore. I know this is all a lie. I know everything you people say is just another means of manipulation. You're just trying to save your damn self!"

"You're wasting your breath, Phyllis." Nick leaned against the wall, mindful of Cameron's every move. "He's not gonna listen to you. He's so damn convinced he knows what's best. And clearly, he's the authority on every great idea because he's got himself into such a fantastic situation here, right?"

She widened her eyes as she turned towards him. "Nick," she hissed. "Stop it." The anger on Cameron's face on grew and she felt the pit in her stomach growing as she saw his grip on the gun tighten.

"Why?" Nick continued. "He's gonna kill us anyway. I'm not gonna spend the last few moments of my life coddling some psychopath who doesn't even care about his son enough to fight for him!"

His body was flying in front of her before she could even open her mouth to speak and she heard Nick scream out in pain as Cameron grabbed his arm and threw him back against the wall.

"You shut the hell up about my son. You don't know a damn thing about it. You don't know what it's like to lose your son. You've never had to fight for anything like that in your life."

"You don't know anything about me," Nick retorted, their faces only inches apart. "If you'd take a minute and open your mind for just a second, I could have told you that I've been in family court before. I've had people trying to take my children away from me and you know what … it's never happened. My children are still with me because I have always had the right people on my side and I can make damn sure they're on your side as well. That woman right there …" He pointed to Phyllis. "She's one of your best allies. She'll fight to the death for you if she believes in you and I promise you, if you walk out of here with us tonight, we'll make sure that you see your son. We'll make sure that he knows what you did for him tonight, that you made the right choice, that you did the right thing. And we'll make sure he knows that you did it because you love him and you want to be a great Dad for him."

Phyllis held her breath. The internal struggle was plastered all over his face. The love a father had for his child fought valiantly against the betrayal experienced by a man now too broken to go on.

"What do you say?" Nick asked, his voice slightly hesitant.

Cameron raised the gun towards Phyllis again. "Move," he commanded.


	18. Chapter 18

"Mr. Newman." The Commander shot a cursory glance to the officers standing nearby. "I'm gonna need you to step back please."

"So that you can do what exactly?" Victor's voice bellowed through the darkness. "What exactly are you doing? He threw his hands up in the air. "What have you accomplished? Why should I stand back and let you do your job when your so called expertise has done absolutely nothing to get my son out of that house alive?!"

"Mr. Newman, I understand how upsetting this must be for you, but we are doing everything in our power to bring this to a peaceful conclusion." Sergeant Brunson shook his head at the officer who looked to him with questioning eyes. "Now I don't want to have to have you removed from the scene, but if you continue to interfere with this investigation."

"This isn't a damn investigation! You're just sitting here, waiting to see what happens. Am I the only one that heard a shot? We have absolutely no idea what's going on in there and you all seem perfectly content to just stand here and wait. I don't wait. I don't stand around. I make things happen and I'll be damned if I stand here and wait for you people to get word that my son has been hurt or worse …"

"Because that's all that matters to you, right?" Billy's voice was filled with a mix of venom and worry as he joined the group. "Your precious son is in the house, so it's important now. It didn't matter when it was only Phyllis' life because, let's face it, you didn't give a damn about her a few years ago when you put a drug lord in her bed and …"

"Billy …" Jack placed his hand on his shoulder. "Let's not do this now. It's not the time."

"You're right, Jack. This isn't the time to be rehashing old history. I'm committed to ending this by whatever means necessary and if that means calling my own people in to forget about the protocol and procedures and actually make some real progress then …"

"Mr. Newman, that is absolutely unacceptable. There will be no outside interference by you or anyone else. If your son hadn't taken it upon himself to go into that house, we might have already been able to bring this to a peaceful conclusion. As it stands, we are working very hard to get eyes inside the house. We have one of our surveillance experts on the roof and they are working on feeding a camera into the …"

"The door!" An officer screamed out, his voice easily heard through the quiet night. "Someone's opening the door."

"No guns," the Commander bellowed. "Just hold off. Be ready, but nothing yet."

* * *

Cameron pulled her body in front of him, his face growing more serious as he turned towards Nick. "She stays in front," he ordered. "If they get a clear shot at me, they'll take it and I'm not about to go out like that. Don't go trying to play the hero now. I've still got this." He gestured to the gun he held pressed into the small of her back. "I don't want to hurt anybody, but …"

"I won't. I'll do whatever you say … just let's get out of here. We'll get out of here and then we'll get to work on getting your son back." He could feel his heart pounding inside his chest and the slight tremble of Phyllis' hand proved she was just as anxious as he was. This ordeal could be over in mere moments, but if was far too soon to let their guards down.

"Walk." Cameron said the word as he shoved her slightly towards the door. "Walk right to the threshold and then stop. Then you're gonna tell them that we're coming out and you're gonna tell them not to show any weapons. No guns, no tasers, no nothing."

"Okay." Her throat felt almost impossibly dry as she attempted to sound less terrified than she felt.

"You better do better than that," he snarled. "Your life depends on it. I swear if you're trying to pull anything …" His eyes darted towards Nick again, the tension and mania returning to his body as his mind began to second guess his choices.

"We're not," Nick said quickly, desperately trying to keep him on course. "Just take it easy on her. You've got a gun to her back. It's not like she's able to relax."

"I'm not exactly feeling loose myself," he spat. "This isn't a damn spa. You seem to think I owe you something and I don't. If anything, you owe me."

"I don't think you owe me." Nick chose his words carefully, "but I'm asking you to put yourself in my position for a minute. If this was someone you loved … if this was your wife, how would you feel watching it?" He could see the momentary flash of understanding on his face before he snorted in derision.

"Walk," he commanded again.

"We're coming out!" Her voice shook as she called out into the night. The lights from the cameras and flashing police cars were too bright to recognize faces even if the gun in her back hadn't monopolized her attention. "No guns, no weapons of any kind," she repeated dutifully. "We're going to walk towards the cars on our own. No one should rush us or approach." She swallowed hard as she felt the gun press harder into her back. This was his not so subtle reminder. "There is a gun at my back," she said, pausing for a moment to collect herself, "and if you …. If anything is …" She turned her head to look back at Cameron. He hadn't given her the exact script for this.

"I'll kill her." His words were crystal clear and she felt them go straight through her.

"We understand," the Commander called out. "This is your show, Brooks. We're on your timetable. We just want to get everyone out of this okay."

"Little late for that isn't it?" The sarcasm still dripped from his voice as they slowly advanced towards the cars.

"Nick," she whispered, as she tried to turn back and ensure he was following.

"Forward," Cameron yelled jerking her arm hard.

She hissed and winced in pain.

"You don't have to do that!" Nick snapped. "We're doing what you want. I'm going to help you. All I'm asking is that you don't hurt her. This is almost over. Please … just let her go."


	19. Chapter 19

There was an almost oppressive stillness to the night. No one moved. He could sense her fear, the building pressure of the situation, the need for all of this to be over … now …

"Cameron." Nick's voice was less forceful now, the bravado he'd once possessed long gone. All he wanted, all that mattered was ending this.

"Shut up!" His scream shattered the silence, its volume and venom illustrating the overwhelming sense of pain, frustration, and agony he currently endured. "I'm still in control here!" he bellowed. The words were meant to be statements when in fact they were yet another way to try to prove to himself that this wasn't another series of horrible mistakes. He couldn't mess up this time. This was too important. This was his last chance to have any kind of life with his son. As much as he hated the privilege associated with the Newmans, having one on his side for once … It could change everything. It could change his life. "We'll do this my way or we won't do it at all." He pressed the gun against her back again, his hand shaking at the enormity of it all. "I need to think. I just need to …"

He could see it all over her face. She was breaking, the events of the evening finally beginning to wear away at the unshakable exterior he'd become so accustomed to. There was something so wrong about this. She shouldn't be here in this mess because of him and he had to stop it … now. He didn't stop to think, not about the possible consequences, not about anything. He simply reacted.

Nick lunged towards her, his entire body crashing into hers and pushing her away from them. "Go," he screamed as he met her wide, fearful eyes for a second. "Go!" he screamed again.

Phyllis scrambled to her feet, the sound of her heart beat whooshing in her ears. The sounds and screams were so loud and chaotic that they were almost undiscernible, and she couldn't tell whose hands were gripping the gun until they were standing again. Nick gripped Cameron's wrists, the gun still clasped tightly in Cameron's hand and she watched them sway back and forth as they fought for leverage.

"Just give it up, Cameron," Nick sneered. "There's a whole group of people out here just ready and waiting to take you down. Just let go of the gun and it'll all be over. You don't have to do this."

"So it was all bullshit then? You were never gonna help me. You're a liar, just like I thought. I should have known better. Stupid! I'm so stupid!" The self loathing helped no one now and he knew this, but it didn't stop the thoughts. The anger he felt towards himself had to go somewhere. It nearly took on a life of its own inside of him as it grew and gave him power. He jerked his wrists hard and freed himself from Nick's grasp as he sent him hurtling towards the ground. There was only one way to even this score and he knew it. He pointed the gun squarely towards her, towards the one and only thing he could take from him that might make this anywhere near fair and still …

He heard her scream almost in time with the shot and he froze on his knees as he waited, afraid to turn around … afraid of what he might see in front of him. It was then that he heard the frantic sounds of the surroundings. The officers sprang into action, tackling Cameron to the ground. He heard the sounds of the walkie talkies, of the orders being shouted, of paramedics being summoned and he finally swallowed hard and forced himself to turn and look.

Phyllis was hunched over, her palms flat on the ground. He felt sick, his own wound long forgotten, the pain from the shot nothing in comparison to what he felt now. There was part of him that was terrified to approach her and yet another part that couldn't make it to her fast enough.

"Phyllis," he called her name, praying silently that she'd answer. Relief and joy flooded his body as he saw her head turn slightly towards him. At least she was alive. At she wasn't …

And then he saw them, her blood covered hands, the streak of blood that covered her cheek, only it wasn't her blood.

"Come here." He gently wrapped his arms around her, easing her off the ground and helping her over towards the back of the ambulance. "We gotta let them do their work," he said quietly.

"This is all my fault," she whispered.

"No it isn't." Nick leaned in, his lips pressing against her cheek and he held her tighter than he ever had. He watched as the paramedics leaned over Billy's lifeless body, the bullet that had clearly been meant for Phyllis lodged squarely into his chest. "It's not your fault. It's mine."

* * *

He still felt her body trembling as he held her close to him and listened to the sounds of the sirens finally starting to fade away into the distance.

"You should get them to look at that."

There was something almost surprising about her voice. It was measured and almost unnaturally calm. "I'm fine," he assured her. "I actually want someone to take a look at you," he whispered as he ran his hand down her cheek. "You've been through a hell of a lot tonight."

"I'm fine." She almost sounded guilty. "I'm not the one who got shot even though I'm clearly the person who was supposed to … both times." She shook her head. "I can't get the look on Jack's face out of my mind." It was bad enough to have to consider what Billy was going through. She also had to consider Jack. His eyes always betrayed him. Even though he fought to appear the stronger, more stoic brother, she could see the fear and torment there. Jack wasn't as strong as he wanted people to believe. He had his own demons and now, he was dealing with them alone. "They had the sirens on … that's a good sign, right?" She needed some hope – even if it was false.

"I'm sure they'll do everything they can." There was nothing about her concern that bothered him. Phyllis was that sort of person, never the one to burn her bridges with her exes. It was something he truly admired about her. She had the unique ability to continue to care and still maintain those boundaries. He squeezed her hand and noticed the dried blood that still caked them. "Let me see if I can get something to clean those up, okay?" He moved to stand and felt her hand clench tight around his arm.

"Just don't go yet, okay?"

It was so unlike her to show her vulnerability, so decidedly un Phyllis like to ask for help. It meant she trusted him, felt safe with him, and more important than anything … it meant she needed him. It felt good to be needed. He nodded slowly and resumed his place by her side. He let his shoulders rise and fall slowly as he felt her head drop and rest there. "Whatever you want," he said quietly.


	20. Chapter 20

She let out a small gasp as her eyes flew open and anxiously searched the room. "Nick." The breath escaped her lips slowly as she gripped his fingertips inside her hand, holding onto him as if her he singlehandedly keeping her steady. "Where? What?" Her hand snaked away from his grasp and found her forehead for a moment as she struggled to make sense of her jumbled thoughts. "I feel funny," she whispered.

He nodded. "They gave you a little something to help you relax," he whispered. His hands swept the hair away from her face as he watched her relax against the pillows. He'd been waiting on her to wake up for nearly an hour. Even though the doctors had assured him that everything was fine, he still hadn't felt his heart slow to normal until her eyes had finally opened and looked into his. The events of this evening would stay with him forever. He'd come far too close to losing her. The memories of the night they'd experienced were playing out in her head as well. He could tell as he watched her eyes almost reflecting them as they replayed inside her brain. "Everything's okay now. You're okay."

She paused, the memories coming in waves. It all seemed surreal and still so frighteningly recent and tangible. "I can't believe all that happened." Her eyes were wide as she stared up at him. "I mean … he could have killed you." Her fingertips lightly traced the gauze bandage on his arm. "Does it hurt?"

"Well, it doesn't tickle." Her soft laugh made him smile until her face changed into a look of pain and she gripped her side.

"Easy," he gently commanded. "The doctor said you have a couple of bruised ribs … one might be cracked from when that bastard threw you down. I should have …"

Her fingertips touched his lips. "It's over now. We're both okay. That's all that matters." But it wasn't. There was something else. The question lingered in her mind and as much as she wanted to know, she was equally afraid of the answer she'd get when she asked. She took a breath. "Is Billy…"

Nick nodded. "They took him into emergency surgery. The bullet missed his heart, so he got really lucky. The bleeding seems to have stopped and they were able to repair the damage they think. He's not out of the woods yet, but they're hopeful." Her relief was obvious.

"I still don't get it. I don't know what the hell he was thinking, jumping in front of me like that. He could have killed him. He could still die and …"

"It's kind of crazy … I've spent my entire life telling my sister, telling you, telling everyone that'll listen about how reckless and stupid Billy Abbott is, but tonight, I completely understand why he did what he did. He cares about you, loves you even and as much as I'd like to have words with him over still carrying a torch, I can't be anything but grateful. If he hadn't done what he did then I could have lost the woman …" He stopped. Now wasn't the best time. They were in a hospital. She deserved better than this, far better. He could do better. "I could have lost you."

"It's okay if you didn't mean to say it." She looked away for a moment. "I know you were just trying to get us both out of there. I know we were both just saying what we could to try to get through to him, so I'm not going to hold you to that. You don't have to worry about me getting all worked up over …"

"Wait … Wait … What are you talking about?"

"When we were standing at the door, and you were trying to get Cameron to let us go, you asked him to think about how he would feel if this was happening to someone he loved and I thought you meant that you …" She'd known him for years and yet this look was one she couldn't read. Was it hesitation? Shame? Guilt? "You know what, never mind. Forget I said anything. We're good. We're in a really good place and we made it through a horrible night and there's no reason to try and push anything else. I'm just grateful that we're both here and we're both okay and everyone is …"

"I meant exactly what I said." His words were as decisive as she'd ever heard them. Not once did he waver or let his eyes leave hers. "I love you. I just didn't want this to be there first time I said it to you because I wanted to make it something special … you know a fancy hotel and dinner or …"

"I don't need any of that," she smiled. "I love you too. And all I want is this." She smiled as he reached for her hand and pulled it to his lips.

"I can give you this," he whispered, "And anything else you want or need. Because you've just given me everything."

The End


End file.
